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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553177">POSTER CHILD</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/matsuwukawa/pseuds/matsuwukawa'>matsuwukawa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Poster Child - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ableism, Addiction, Depictions of Domestic Abuse, Everyone is a lil bit gay, F/F, F/M, Graphic Drug Abuse, High School, Hockey, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of Death, Neglectful Parents, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Universe, Original work - Freeform, Self-Harm, Violence as a coping mechanism, american setting written by an australian, mentions of past sexual abuse, one harry potter reference but it's for clout because i hate it as a franchise, physical assault, plentiful penguins slander (deserved), set in 2017 so. uh oh, there is one (1) cishet main character and he's on thin ice, undaignosed ADHD but its sexy, unhealthy relationships getting called the fuck out</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:41:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/matsuwukawa/pseuds/matsuwukawa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah Shan was a star hockey player with college prospects and his eyes set on the NHL. Stress the was.</p><p>Conner Nakamura was a kind kid with anger issues, now replaced in his parent's mind by an unrecognisable man with fire in his eyes and nothing to do but burn.</p><p>Timothy Jesper was a kid before he became a stand-in parent at sixteen to his younger siblings, a victim of his working parents and his own suffering brain.</p><p>Adelaide Kane was going to do great things before her mother got sick. Now she's infamous for not being able to die right, killing herself a little more everyday.</p><p>Four teens, all connected by a watch list program, created to keep an eye on Chesterville High's most volatile.<br/>Being at risk is just a part of the growing pains.</p><p>"I'm not myself yet. That's just it. Not all myself. But I've been becoming myself." - Eugene O'Neill from The Complete Plays of E. O.; "Strange Interlude,"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey so! Uh! I'm posting this here too now because I want attention uwu</p><p>So, before we begin! Poster Child is a story about recovery, accountability and self-love, but the journey towards a happy ending has it's good and bad parts which often results in at times intense content. Please adhere to the following comprehensive list of themes and events which may be triggering in nature or difficult to read: Poster Child features addiction, assault, mentions of death, depictions of domestic abuse, graphic drug abuse, eating disorders and depictions of purging, homophobia, ableism, mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, mentions of past sexual abuse (never depicted), self-harm, mental illness and unhealthy relationships. If you encounter something within the story you would like tagged as a trigger, notify me and I will have it updated ASAP. Please remember to take care of yourself and do not hesitate to seek help if necessary. I love you!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Elijah?"</p><p>Her soft voice floated up the stairs. Lingering in the creamy walls and the crushed white carpet, caught in the mad tangles of his hair as Elijah contemplated how fast he could throw himself down the staircase. You don't always die from a broken neck, right?</p><p>"I know you can hear me." She materialised on the landing and suddenly he was in full sight, his cover blown and his mind exposed for her dutiful fingers to pick at in a way she called motherly- it was really just invasive, but he kept that thought to himself. "Dinner is ready."</p><p>"I'm coming," Elijah says quietly, and Rachel nodded once and disappeared as fast as she appeared. The vacuum that trailed her swallowed everything but the devastating silence. It made Elijah miss his brother violently, because Abel wouldn't let this happen. He was full of life and energy and explosive laughter; he wouldn't let the sadness and disappointment linger behind the framed photographs beside the front door or in the locked cabinet in the bathroom. He would force his colour and light into every single crack and crevice this silent house had in a way only Abel Shan could.</p><p>But then again, Abel probably hated him too.</p><p>Elijah blinked, finding himself seated at the dinner table staring at a half-full plate of beef and peas.</p><p>No human in that room made a sound. Forks and knives scraped against the ceramic plates. Dog was sitting on his feet, purring contently, kneading at his socks. Dog was pretty much the only one who ever showed him affection now, as depressing as that was. The absence of human touch was probably not the best for his mental health, but then that would imply that there was something wrong with him.</p><p>He was <em>fine</em>.</p><p>"Eat," Rachel instructed, and he watched himself robotically pick up his fork and half-heartedly chew on a chunk of beef. His food was already cut neatly into squares, courtesy of his father Ariel. It was burnt, barren of effort or that same love and dedication Rachel used to pour into her cooking. Apparently when she started hating her son she also started hating cooking.</p><p>"Abel called me today," Ariel announced after five minutes of eerie quiet. He'd never been able to stand it- that's where his eldest got it from. "He's met a nice fellow in Japan. A real looker, he says." Rachel laughed awkwardly as her mouth twists into the usual bitter shape it takes when reminded of Abel's sexuality and Ariel simply smiled down into his beef. The following silence was entirely uncomfortable and Eli's sigh went unnoticed. Just like his <em>entire existence</em> these days.</p><p>"So... school goes back tomorrow," Eli prompted, putting down his fork. He didn't like beef that much anyway.</p><p>"That's nice," Rachel said bluntly, and Ariel shot her a look. It was The Look, and Rachel's lips stretched tight. That one was the dreaded Smile of Disappointment, also known as the only thing Eli had managed to get out of her since he left rehab. Dog hummed in agreement, shifting on his foot.</p><p>"Uh- I think I'm gonna try to get back on the hockey team." It was a fast, muddled murmur, and Rachel dropped her fork.</p><p>"No," she said immediately. "Not this again." He could feel that sour buzz in the bottom of his stomach. He'd started an argument again, and he could tell in the way the corners of Rachel's lips pulled down and her eyes narrowed as her fist tightened subtly. Automatic physical response to maternal instinct, the therapist called it. An inherent desire to protect her son from harm, even if he's the danger to himself. Eli thought it was just because he was so infuriating she wanted to knock him down and scream until her throat was raw.</p><p>"It's worth a shot-"</p><p>"They won't let you back on the team-"</p><p>"It's been three months, mom! I'm clean now-"</p><p>"You can't go back into that environment! You'll fall into the exact same habit again and who knows if this time you'll end up in an even worse condition-"</p><p>"I'm fine now! I won't do it again! It was an accident-"</p><p>"Elijah," Rachel snapped, and the room fell silent. "No."</p><p>"<em>Mom</em>-"</p><p>"We have done everything to help you! Abel even came all the way from Japan to see you, to try and talk to you, to- to fix you." Her hand slipped into Ariel's under the table, and Eli could feel his chest tightening. "We've done our part, now it's time you hold up your end. No hockey."</p><p>That had been one of the various rules set in place before they whisked him off to a Youth Rehabilitation Centre. No drugs, no hockey, no friends, no <em>life</em>. There was to be no talk of hockey or the rink or anything related to the game, and if he dared try and get in contact with Coach or any of his teammates he'd face hell and wrath. That last part was no problem: all of his friends were his teammates, and they hated him now anyway. Everyone hated him.</p><p>Elijah Shan; the Wonder Boy.</p><p>Elijah Shan. Drug addict.</p><p>"It. Was An. accident," he grit through his teeth for the umpteenth time, and Ariel's eyes narrow at his clenched fists. "I was stressed, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. It wasn't the hockey-"</p><p>"No means no, Elijah!"</p><p>"What else do you want me to say?" There was a snake in his throat, poisoning his words, tightening around his tongue, sharpening his syllables and digging them into Rachel's flesh. That snake wanted them to hurt how Elijah was hurting, but Elijah just wanted them to be calm and think about it logically. The snake said no. The snake wanted vengeance. The snake wanted blood.</p><p>Elijah was not the snake.</p><p>"We want you to admit you had a problem, Eli." Ariel's voice was strong, pushing into the conversation and tagging Rachel out so she could focus on breathing. Ariel didn't have a snake; he was proud and powerful and compassionate. He had a <em>heart</em>. "Drugs were only the beginning, weren't they?"</p><p>"The beginning of <em>what</em>?"</p><p>"The beginning of this-"</p><p>"There's nothing wrong with me!" Eli's scream ripped through his throat and shot off his tongue, almost cracking his teeth from the force as he lurched up out of his chair and thoughtlessly pounded his fist into the mahogany. The potatoes jumped and Ariel's hard eyes blinked.</p><p>"I don't know what to do with you." Her voice was plain and defeated as Rachel stood up, almost slamming Elijah's plate on top of hers as she marched into the kitchen. "I don't know what else we can do." The dining room fell into a deathly silence as the harsh sound of water beating the plates in the sink filled the empty space. Ariel was staring at him, his muddy brown eyes a cesspool of disappointment and sadness. Eli would look the same if he thought he didn't know his son anymore.</p><p>He didn't excuse himself as he left the room, ignoring Dog's mews and the snake settling in the bottom of his stomach, focusing on his feet hitting the carpeted stairs. The creak of the step before the landing and the sharp right turn to keep going up.</p><p>He still thought about it a lot. Too much, to be honest. It wasn't safe. His therapist said obsessively thinking about it was the easiest way to return to it; but then again, his therapist said a lot of bullshit, and Eli didn't know whether to believe him or not. The short man was untrustworthy, his sickening blonde hair slicked back with enough gel to cause an oil spill, his watery blue eyes like beads behind his thick black glasses as he spewed forth pointless words in effort to trip him up and draw out some kind of mental breakthrough. To be the man who broke Elijah Shan, the boy who made state news after his public OD; that was the kind of fame a small-town therapist allegedly wanted. Why, Eli had no idea. Everyone was interested in breaking him these days.</p><p>As he stomped up towards the sanctuary of his room, Eli remembered floating. Collapsing right there on the ice and going up, up, up, bouncing in the paramedic's arms, going up higher and higher. Flying.</p><p>Falling.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The school building loomed tall, surrounded by hyped-up children excited to return to the hellhole beyond the gates. It was the first day of the new school year, with the death throes of the summer behind them and the trees fading from vibrant greens to dull reds. Today was, figuratively, the final day of summer: the last day of childish exuberance before the heavy weight of school settled into strained shoulders and seeped back into weary bones.</p><p>Any other year, Eli would've been greeted with high-fives, joyful "how was your summer?" pries and the arm of his best friend around his shoulders as he dragged him into the building to the sound of the bell. But now his best friend was no longer his best friend and people gave him a wide, whispering berth. Besides, <em>everyone</em> knew how his summer had gone, and if you didn't you'd be caught up as soon as you came into view of the school. Apparently it was all anyone wanted to talk about. Eli was the hottest fuck up since Adelaide Kane.</p><p>To say he was nervous would be an understatement.</p><p>Homeroom was loud, humming with energy as schoolmates reunited. Eli sat at his desk, earbuds jammed far into his ear drums as he tried to ignore the conversations turning to him. He wondered if he could go sit with Lilly Gregory, but the likelihood of her letting the school's trash enter her circle was very low. That didn't stop her from staring at him. A naïve part of him hoped she regretted it as much as he did, but as he replayed their last conversation in his head he knew it was nothing more than wishful thinking. <em>Can't you see? This is all your fault.</em> She'd been crying, and the sound of it echoed louder between his ears as he watched her laugh and joke with her friends.</p><p>The door swung open as a stout, grinning man strode in, the sun bouncing off his shoulders as he turned on his heel and surveyed the class with that same wide smile on his face.</p><p>"Alright, alright, everybody in your seats!" Mr Adamos yelled, and Elijah felt his hopes fall further. Just his luck the gym teacher was his homeroom teacher. The Coach. <em>His</em> Coach. "Summer is <em>over</em>, kids. Time to return to school mode. Kian, I mean it. In your seat. I'm not afraid to force a seating arrangement on you." There was a loud groan as Kian Anders hastily found a free seat, hardly covering his laugh as his friend bumped fists with him.</p><p>"That's more like it. Now I can look down on all of you," Papados observed, earning a class-wide chuckle at the short man's self-deprecating humour. Eli remained silent, sinking further into his seat and hoping he'd skip over him. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't. Papados' eyes glanced over Eli like a search light through fog, and he breathed a sigh of relief.</p><p>"I just need you to stay quiet for two minutes so I can call roll, kids. Bear with me," Papados said, grabbing the paper sheet and a pen. "You all should know the drill by now. Ashley Aarons?"</p><p>"Here." Ashley's pale hand shot up into the air as he grinned. "Unfortunately."</p><p>"Detention, minus ten points from Hufflepuff," Adamos said sternly, and once again the class laughed.</p><p>The roll dwindled down, passing Kian and Lilly until he reached S.</p><p>"Eli- oh." Adamos stopped abruptly, the smile dying on his lips as his chuckle died halfway up his throat. "I didn't know he was back." It was muttered, not intended for every set of ears in the class to hear, but even up in the back it rang loud and clear. Elijah's breath caught in his throat, and every muscle in his body tensed. He felt like he was fighting through molasses as he straightened up, setting his face and focusing on Adamos. All he had to do was ignore every other body in the suddenly frighteningly small room. This was roll call; this was normal.</p><p>Everything is <em>fine</em>.</p><p>"Here." Elijah stuck his hand up tentatively for what felt like an eternity before Adamos finally looked up, his warm eyes dulling as his gaze slid from his hand to his face. Eli shrunk down under the weight of all the pain and disappointment in the man's eyes, suddenly violently aware of every prying eye digging into his skin like barbed wire. It felt like Adamos had stuck his hand right through Eli's chest and squeezed his heart until it burst. His ears were ringing, but then he realised it was the bell, and people were clearing out fast and he was in danger of being the last to leave.</p><p>He couldn't face him alone.</p><p>So Eli packed had his bag on his shoulders and somehow squeezed into the river, joining the flood of students filling every crevice of the halls, ignoring Adamos' call and letting himself drown.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Conner wasn't fond of history reshitting itself so he decided then to say fuck it and just roll with the punches, much to his mother's dismay. Much to his Coach's dismay. Much to the dismay of pretty much everyone, but Conner was a go big or go home kid in only the most inconvenient ways- if he was going to disappoint someone, he was going to disappoint everyone.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Conner Nakamura was fourteen and on the brink of suspension for fighting Cohen Hill, he made a promise: he wasn't going to get in trouble ever again. Fast forward eight months to his first day of Freshman year, he found himself in the principal's office being scolded for fighting Cohen Hill. Conner wasn't fond of history reshitting itself so he decided then to say fuck it and just roll with the punches, much to his mother's dismay. Much to his Coach's dismay. Much to the dismay of pretty much everyone, but Conner was a go big or go home kid in only the most inconvenient ways- if he was going to disappoint someone, he was going to disappoint <em>everyone</em>.</p><p>The Principal's office at Chesterville High was a lot less colourful than the one at Chesterville Middle. Home to the school's resident dragon, Mrs Wright, this particular office was less of a professional space and more of a dungeon. It was also Conner's second home by this point. He knew that every forty-five minutes a bus would drive by, right outside the window, and he knew just how to sit on the lumpy chair so he wasn't stabbed by springs. Conner knew this place down to the bumps and dips in the painted plastic of her desk and the dust caught between the keys of her computer keyboard.</p><p>"This is, of course, for your own good," Mrs Wright droned on, clicking her maroon talons against the manila file in front of her, obnoxious enough to have Conner realise he'd been out of focus again. Wright's eyes drooped, heavy with messy black mascara and dusty grey eye shadow. The wrinkles around her cracked lips stretched to accommodate the shark-like smile threatening to split her face. Conner could see the yellow smudge of nicotine on her left forefinger and the chip on her front tooth. This wasn't a woman he was comfortable with. She was a gnarled creature, something out of a scary story he'd make up to scare his little brothers. At least, that was how Conner saw her. He <em>did</em> hate her unconditionally, which might have blurred his judgement.</p><p>"Your actions at the end of our last school year have raised concerns within the school, and it was a unanimous decision to have something done about the incident.."</p><p>"Yes, ma'am."</p><p>"We're all well aware of your school record, Conner," Mrs Wright said, her grin vaguely reminiscent of a shark in shallow water. Murky, unclear; almost visible, but not quite. A hidden danger you can't focus on until it's too late. "Fight after fight over four years, continuing a trend seen in middle school and even late elementary-  last year's incident put your entire school career at risk. That's why this year we're taking pre-emptive measures to prevent any more trouble. Understood?"</p><p>"Yes Principal Wright."</p><p>"Your junior year wasn't terrible, boy. You were making improvements. No failing marks, vice captain of the boys Hockey team. Where did that all go?" Conner's skin prickled. <em>Alternate</em> Captain. And he hadn't even had the chance to play with the title. It was something the team had decided on before everything happened.</p><p>"I don't know, Principal Wright."</p><p>"Pay attention in class, Conner, and perhaps then you'll find out what a rhetorical question is," she snapped, and Conner bristled. If everyone was so sure he was a violent bastard who would fight anyone on sight, what was going to stop him from punching her in the face? There was no way he could dig his grave any deeper than it already was. Go out with a bang. After his mom killed him, maybe they could put it on his tombstone. Something like, 'Conner died as he lived- punching all of his problems'.</p><p>"Good boy." Wright leaned across the table and ruffled his raven hair with a condescending flick of the wrist, and Conner entertained the thought of breaking her arm. "You'll be called down to see Ms Townsend in third period by whichever student is on Office Duty. You're to arrive at her office as soon as you can, and if you don't go we <em>will</em> know. Skipping these meetings will result in, of course, probation. Understood?" He swallowed a harsh remark. Probation for missing a stupid meeting? He knew she wanted him expelled, but that was ridiculous.</p><p>"I understand, Principal Wright," Conner muttered, and her sickly grin curved downwards.</p><p>"You can leave now. I'm done with you," she said, and Conner stood up. "You'll be there in third period, Conner. You know full well the consequences."</p><p>"Yes, Principal Wright," he said for the millionth time. She nodded, shaking her hand at him in a gesture to leave, and Conner hoisted his bag up onto his shoulder and tried not to stomp out of the room in case she accused him of having an attitude. It took everything in his power to close the door softly as he exited her private office, ignoring Miss Herder's polite hello from behind the office glass and her offer of a candy from the visitor's bowl in favour of focusing on his breathing. That stupid one, two, three bullshit.</p><p>The hallways of Chesterville High were silent, every student suffering through their first day back at school in the safety of their classroom. Conner had this small world to himself.</p><p>It was too much.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>English bought on a fresh copy of The Great Gatsby and two pages of work to do in fifty-five minutes. It also meant getting to sit next to one of his closer friends in class for the first time. In short: <em>suffering</em>.</p><p>"I have never been more glad to not have a seating plan." The girl beside Conner stretched out like a cat, lithe and smooth. Her soft blue crop top slid up with her shoulders to reveal well defined muscles and a small silver stud glinting in her belly button. A new addition and an eighteenth birthday gift. She had snapchatted the whole thing, and it made Conner feel queasy just thinking about it. "I finally get to sit with my BFF. Just saying that it would be great if he even pretended to be listening to me."</p><p>"Too much effort," Conner grunted, and Adanna rolled her eyes. What was the suggested theme of the first chapter of the novel? Nick Carraway was boring, but he preferred the start of this book to anything at all related to Moby Dick. He heard <em>Call Me Ishmael</em> in his nightmares.</p><p>He sneaked a quick glimpse at Adanna's page and saw it was just as blank as his. Of course, her pencil case hadn't even been opened yet.</p><p>"Great to see you too, Con. How was your summer, anyway?"</p><p>Adanna Musa isn't an complicated individual. She's funny, brutally honest, and obsessed with Kendall Coyne Schofield. The proud girl was the captain of the girl's hockey team - the Chesterville Queens - and had already made a name for herself, locally and further. She was ranked as the second best in the High School Hockey League, was projected for the NWHL and was the top pick for the Danielle Wicks Scholarship at the ECC in St Paul, home to one of the biggest division one college hockey teams in Minnesota. Adanna's dreams, to Conner, are better described as facts, and to save time he reckoned they should just sign her now. There was no doubt in anyone's mind she'd one day lead a time to victory and the Isobel Cup, or even Olympic gold; Adanna was just <em>that good</em>. So good she had already outgrown their hometown, her meteoric rise only ever rivalled by one other.</p><p>The only negative thing about her that Conner could think of was the fact she tried to help you with your problems by pretending that the problem had never happened. Adanna Musa is regrettably allergic to closure.</p><p>"Fine." Conner forced a smile. "How was <em>your</em> summer?"</p><p>"Great. Spent a lot of time training and a month at the U19 camp, which was dope," she said, relaxed, like the fact she would again be playing for America in the winter was any small feat.. "I met this super hot girl online too, and we met up at Dean's Death Throes party. She's totally fucking amazing and I'm, like, going to marry her because it's legal now and I can." she paused, frowning. "I didn't see you at Dean's. Thought you'd be there. Death Throes is always hella. And it's the last one, so, devo. Though, not gonna lie, he strikes me as the kind of guy who's still gonna hold parties for high schoolers once we graduate. Unless he caves and goes to community college. I'm almost disappointed I'll be so far away from here and miss them. Such a shame, really." She reached into her pocket and found a packet of gum, sighing happily and unwrapping it under the table, tracking Ms Roy's slow journey through the room.</p><p>"I was busy," he muttered, in reply to the question buried beneath her word vomit. Adanna frowned.</p><p>"Excuse me, but bull to the shit. Like you'd be busy, party pooper. You weren't at any events or games and I didn't see you at the rink once. I thought you were dead. Why?" The gum snapped between her teeth and he felt his eye twitch.</p><p>"You <em>know</em> why." His leg was bouncing again, and he forced it to stop. Adanna didn't seem to notice as she finally unzipped her pencil case, pulling out her stupid purple pen with the fluff and glitter and the shooting stars.</p><p>"I don't, actually." her voice was testy. Conner could feel his blood boiling.</p><p>"<em>Adanna</em>." One, two, three, he reminded himself.</p><p>"<em>Conner</em>." she paused, frowning. "There's no point throwing away hockey just cause you're upset-"</p><p>"Shut up," Conner snapped, and she blinked in surprise. "I'm not- I'm not upset. I- I don't want to go back to the rink because I'm taking a break. From hockey. Full stop. End of story." It wasn't. Adanna knew that. Conner knew that.</p><p>"Are you actually giving up on the game because your boyf-"</p><p>"Fucking <em>stop</em>!" Conner was close to yelling, and the space around him was hushed. Conner could feel himself fuming, rage bubbling too close to the top, numbers lost amidst the red. Adanna had the gall to look disinterested and his fists clenched. "He wasn't my boyfriend, he was my bes- fuck, seriously, why am I even arguing with you? You're stupid. I hate you. Fuck off."</p><p>"I didn't imagine that sexual tension. That was some Rin and Haru shit. You were close. Weirdly close," Adanna added last minute, and Conner briefly closed his eyes to focus his anger on the pencil stabbing into his palm and not the girl beside him. He knew he wasn't being fair, but that didn't stop him from being pissed. Conner had wasted away his summer in his own supposedly self-imposed isolation, alone and angry, holding himself back from another explosion. It was blinding and hazy and for once, the red behind his eyes wasn't turning into the phantom pressure of tears he knew wouldn't fall. It felt almost normal. Almost.</p><p>"Were close. <em>Were</em> close." People were turning back to their own work and conversations and Ms Roy was drifting over, suspicious. "Don't be a fucking dick." The cloud was around his neck, suffocating and tight, and he was happy to drown in it. He welcomed the pain, letting her words bury into his skin and wriggle in deep like maggots' justification for her anger was like a drug to him. Maybe that was a poor choice of words.</p><p>"Calm thy tit, Nakamura." She was bemused. It was in her face. Conner hated that. She always did this. She knew how to provoke him; she knew how to get him angry and fiery. He was her bomb boy. Always ready to explode, just waiting for the wrong words or a lingering look.</p><p>"<em>S</em>hut the fuck up," he hissed. "You're such a jerk. We were never a thing and we never will be a thing because if you haven't noticed, I- I fucking hate him. Stop shipping us or whatever the fuck you called it, get a life and stop- stop pushing your gay on me." Conner isn't sure of what tastes more sour- the conversation itself, or his stutter claiming more words than he would normally allow it to. It had worsened again over the summer.</p><p>"Go fuck yourself," Adanna scoffed, affronted. "You're such a drama queen." She quickly scribbled a bullshit answer in as many questions as she could and suddenly Ms Roy's short shadow was over them, just as Conner realised his page was still empty and he had left his book closed. He was dazed, red creeping around his eyes and straining in his knuckles. Adanna, meanwhile, was flipping through random pages and dutifully writing with a smug smile on her face as she looked down and pushed her gum to the back of her mouth with her tongue.</p><p>Conner, briefly, considered the consequences of his anger on Ms Roy. She was new, having arrived fresh from university in the middle of last year. The only impression she had of Conner was the incident, and god knew that wasn't exactly working in his favour. Adanna looked at him expectantly from under her curls, licking her lips, waiting for the explosion. Conner refused to give her the satisfaction, swallowing hard as Ms Roy clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.</p><p>"I'd hoped all that talking was about your work," Ms Roy sighed. "Ten minutes and no progress? You can stick around for pre-lunch, Conner." She turned, hands clasped behind her back as she strode across the room to yell at Thomas Bugden for making his work a paper plane.</p><p>"Busted," Adanna whispered, giggling, and Conner looked away before he could take it out on her, cracking his knuckles methodically. Adanna watched him in hushed expectancy, eyes gleaming with quiet excitement. She loved fire and smoke. Adanna liked to describe herself as relaxed; she claimed she's a calm river, and Conner was the wildfire that couldn't cross her. His final blockade. Conner had mentioned numerous times he thought that was stupid. Adanna herself might not be complicated, but their friendship was, and he was aware of it. The aggressive back and forth between them was their normal- Adanna's own way of keeping Conner on track. She was one of the few people who seemed to understand that Conner's anger wasn't something that can be locked away, but instead needed... maintenance. Controlled bursts to prevent <em>accidents</em>. Burning off the excess energy Conner could too easily convert into violence without supervision.</p><p>"What did you get for question one?" Conner asked eventually, quiet and controlled, knuckles aching.</p><p>"I just wrote some bullshit about symbolism," she replied. "I didn't actually read the question. Just gave 'em the first buzz word that came to mind." Conner nodded, not ready yet to lift his gaze from his hands. He reasoned that they can't do anything he'll regret against his will that way. His index finger twitched.</p><p>"I didn't mean to yell," he said.</p><p>"All g." Adanna looked back down at her page. "I get it. I was egging you on, there. Just good to see you normal." A pause. Conner lifted his pen to write and the nib scratched the page. He feels oddly despairing as the black ink bled through, staining in an ugly blot.</p><p>"Tell me about your girlfriend."</p><p>"I'm not your white noise machine, Nakamura," she huffed, chewing her gum obnoxiously, and cool blue relief rushed over the red stain on his chest.</p><p>"Adanna. Come on." he successfully keeps the pleading note out of his voice but she still side-eyed him, frowning. She even stopped chewing. She understood.</p><p>"Well if I have to, but only because you're making me. Totally not because I'm head over heels for this beautiful girl. Her name is Georgia Bell and I call her Georgie B or GB and she always laughs because she thought I meant garlic bread and she is high-key fucking perfect," Adanna gushed, and Conner breathed out shallowly as she continued to rant, relaxing into the curve of his J's and G's as he wrote and slipped into the work grind. Adanna was bright red, giggling about when she spilled her drink all down the front of Georgie's shirt and how the girl had spent the rest of the night in Adanna's Chesterville Queens jersey doing absurd things to her heart. Conner was happy for her. Honestly. After her last girlfriend, Adanna deserved someone who could make her smile like that. Conner didn't let himself think too hard on why he still couldn't get the bitter taste out of his mouth.</p><p>The bell rang after what felt like hours of class, long and trilling, and Adanna pressed a light kiss to the top of his forehead before leaving him alone in the room with Ms Roy, promising to hold a seat for him. She wouldn't, but Conner appreciated the sentiment.</p><p>He sighed, resting his head in his hands as Roy closed the door. He supposed he should get used to it now, seeing as this was probably going to be the standard for the rest of his senior year.</p><p>Conner couldn't count far enough to measure the days between him and freedom. While the future and college and everything attached to it was the last thing he wanted to think about he couldn't stop himself from craving it.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Too much melodrama, he thought to himself. Tim was far too dutiful of a wallflower to warrant such an aggressive attack on his peers. It was all assumptions, based on movies and Facebook stories. He hardly knew anyone here anyway-</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Timothy Jesper doesn't get bullied. He's just in the wrong place at the wrong time a lot.</p>
<p>It was the first day back at school and he'd already grown weary of the noise. It was a tornado of bodies and opposing Lynx sprays, and the amount of times he'd been jabbed in the ribs or between the shoulder blades with a swinging binder had already left the realm of single digits. He knew he looked bad; he hadn't had time to fix up his angry hair this morning and he hadn't slept well at all the night before, so the bags under his eyes were more pronounced and ugly. The woes of sharing a bathroom with seven other kids never failed to remind Tim that he was selfishly only thinking about himself again. He caught a small glimpse of himself in a mirror haphazardly blu-taked to a swinging locker and wondered how long he'd be able to last.</p>
<p>"Tim, do you know where we're going?" a small voice asked nervously, and he was suddenly reminded of his mission. Take Elle to her homeroom to get her locker assignment.</p>
<p>The job had, of course, fallen to him. Jake refused - something about being cool - and the twins had disappeared into the writhing mass of the student body in that silent way they had mastered as soon as the Jesper kids came through the doors. That left their fourteen year old sister in the hands of Tim, and the brand-new freshman had cried all morning without even pausing to eat breakfast. She had eaten with tears running down her cheeks and left Tim on eggshells as he tried to prevent another meltdown. It wasn't an easy or fun job, but Tim supposed it was his duty. He would've loved for his older siblings to help him in his first days as a freshman, and if he couldn't get that he could at least offer it to Elle.</p>
<p>"I know where we're going," Tim said assuredly. The lie came easily. "Want me to show you around the cafeteria at pre-lunch?"</p>
<p>"I <em>want</em> to go home." Elle stopped, her feet grinding into the linoleum, and Tim could hear his selfish thoughts as her eyes watered pitifully. The clock was ticking as to how long he had before she completely lost her mind. "I don't like it here Tim."</p>
<p>"Elle, you don't even know what here is yet," he said gently. He wanted to tell her that she'd fit in if she was average, just like him; never a bold, noticeable part of the image. Just a dutiful part of the background. He wanted to tell her that school wasn't fun, but it was just a part of life. He wanted to tell her a lot, but he couldn't. He was, after all, her older brother; he didn't specialise in telling the truth. His job was to make her feel better, and better was a lie half the time these days. "I bet you'll love it. Where are your friends?"</p>
<p>"Celia isn't here yet," she sniffed, dragging the sleeve of her sweater under her nose and lifting her glasses to rub her eyes. "She told me yesterday that she won't be here until right before the bell, so I'm- I'm gonna be all alone, Timmy, what if she isn't in my homeroom? What if I don't know anyone?"</p>
<p>"You'll know people, Elle, everyone from middle school comes here," Tim sighed. "If we get to your homeroom early, you can get your locker assignment first, and then you'll be all set for orientation. We can look and see if Celia's name is on your roll."</p>
<p>He walked in front of her, one arm clasped tightly around her arm as he manoeuvred through the flood of students pushing every which way. He passed freshmen on the verge of tears and other's clinging to their new books with a gleam in their eyes. He recognised a few of the other seniors, walking with thirteen years of weariness thinly veiled behind summer tans and grandiose stories and the stench of the party drugs Tim had expected everyone to be scared off of. He let himself wonder idly who Elle would become after prolonged exposure. Elle was... soft. Gullible, emotional, too kind for her own good; her friends are the opposite. How long until she was like everyone else here? How long before her friends or how naivety had her making all the mistakes freshman year supposedly encouraged? No one had ever taken enough time to drag Tim into that side of high school. He had simply watched from afar.</p>
<p>Too much melodrama, he thought to himself. Tim was far too dutiful of a wallflower to warrant such an aggressive attack on his peers. It was all assumptions, based on movies and Facebook stories. He hardly knew anyone here anyway-</p>
<p>Tim didn't get any warning before he was pushed into the lockers and Elle gasped, shocked into stillness. Tim looked up in time to see a black haired boy storming past, spitting a fiery warning in Tim's direction before he melted into the crowd. It took him a second to catch his breath, laying a hand over his heart to try and steady its furious beating.</p>
<p>Conner Nakamura- one of the few faces he could name, but not by his own volition. Tim thought he was expelled.</p>
<p>"Tim?" Elle asked frantically, and he blinked. "Are you okay? He hit you really hard-"</p>
<p>"I'm fine." Tim forced a smile. "He was just in a rush. It happens." He immediately saw his mistake as Elle's eyes widened into glistening saucers.</p>
<p>"Is it gonna happen to <em>me</em>?"</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Second block. Tier Two English with Mr Wesley. Tim didn't know why they put him in a smart class.</p>
<p>"Sir, why are we doing Shakespeare again?" Ashley Aarons moaned, banging his head on the desk as Mr Wesley walked past with his crate of books. A copy of Romeo and Juliet was slapped onto his desk with a dull thud, and Tim murmured a thank you as he pulled the paperback away from the edge.</p>
<p>"Because we just adore torture here at this fine establishment," Wesley said, and Ashley rolled his eyes. "Besides, it was this or Macbeth. Take your pick."</p>
<p>"At least Macbeth has <em>cool </em>murder and ghosts," he mumbled, staring distastefully at his book.</p>
<p>"Why can't we do Gatsby, or To Kill a Mocking Bird? Something with a more political leaning?" That comment came from Ciara something, who always asked for more a challenge no matter the class. She was smart. Smarter than Tim, at least.</p>
<p>"Because the other classes took all the copies. Duh." Wesley had made it back to the front of the room, leaning against his desk and looking over the class with a critical gaze. Tim had an inkling of what to expect from being in Wesley's class. His older sister Sarah had him as a junior, and while he was reportedly easy-going teacher, apparently his quizzes were torturous and often cited material not yet covered in class time. He was one of those who expected one hundred percent and more. "Now, who can tell me what happens in this play?" He held up his own copy for emphasis, and Ciara stuck her hand up eagerly. Wesley nodded at her, cuing Ciara to clear her throat and fold her hands over each other on her table.</p>
<p>"The deuteragonists are Romeo and Juliet, and they fall in love despite the fact they're from rivalling families. They get married in secret to try and reconcile their families, but then in a duel Romeo kills Juliet's cousin in revenge for the cousin killing Romeo's friend Mercutio, so he's banished from their city, and if he came back they'd execute him. Juliet works in secret with a friend of Romeo and fakes her death with a poison that was supposed to put her in a coma akin to death for two days, but the message that it was fake never reached Romeo. He sneaks back into the city, steals poison and goes to Juliet's crypt and still thinks she's really dead. So he poisons himself and dies, and when Juliet wakes up to find him dead, she kills herself as well. The families find out and make up, and that's it." Ciara's smug expression is wiped away when Ashley coughed something behind his fist that sounded like <em>nerd</em>. His friend snickered.</p>
<p>"Spoiler alert," someone behind Tim muttered as Wesley clapped his hands.</p>
<p>"Well done, Ciara," Wesley said approvingly, ignoring the look Ciara shot at Ashley, "But not quite."</p>
<p>"What do you mean? She just quoted the entirety of the Wikipedia page," Ashley laughed, and Tim almost laughed. Almost.</p>
<p>"I read it over the summer, drop kick," Ciara muttered to her desk. Ashley made faces at the back of her head and Tim wondered if their back and forth was going to last the rest of the school year.</p>
<p>"The play is much ado about nothing," Wesley said over their argument, grinning. No one found his pun as funny as he did but he seemingly takes in stride. "It hasn't got one overarching theme that encapsulates the entirety of it; it's multiple themes and ideas that came together to create one thing. It means something different to everyone, once you <em>actually</em> read it." Ciara looked hurt. "To me, what happens in this play is two naïve people falling in love with the <em>idea</em> of love, and that ultimately destroyed the both of them and many others."</p>
<p>"So... you're saying there's no right answer?" a girl asked from the front, her voice quizzical and confused. Her name was Mia, and she had gotten a tattoo while drunk last year, and it's all anyone had spoken about for so long even Tim had heard about it. He could see it, aside from her shoulder blade and peaking out from behind her hair; a pair of maracas beside a snake with the phrase <em>try, try again</em> written beneath it. The snake was wearing sunglasses, and frowning. Tim still isn't sure if the tattoo was a joke in itself, or if the person who had inked it had it out for Mia.</p>
<p>"Exactly," Wesley said, dragging Tim's attention away from the tattoo. "This whole unit is going to be about perspective and opinion, what experiences can help shape a person's perspective and opinion, and what this play means to you specifically." Tim didn't like the sound that. Opinions got people in trouble. He didn't like trouble.</p>
<p>"Boring," Ryan Davidson sang under his breath.</p>
<p>"And that right there is a brilliant example of an opinion!" Wesley called loudly. "Ryan's opinion is that this unit will be boring. For the benefit of your perspective, Ryan here can star us off reading. Page one, everybody! It's not that hard." There was the sound of pages turning as copies were cracked open, muffling Ryan's huff as Tim looked down at his book. He pressed his fingers to the edge to try and smooth out the kinks, and when he pulled his hand away he saw the yellowing paper spotted with red. He glanced at his thumb and pursed his lips at the sight of it. He was picking again.</p>
<p>"Take it away, Mr Davidson. You've got the floor," Wesley said grandly, amused, and Ryan rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>"Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes a pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life whose misadventured-"</p>
<p>A knock at the door interrupted his monotone reading, and everyone around Tim looked up simultaneously. He was a second delayed, reading ahead in the book, and when he finally caught on that Ryan had stopped speaking he looked up to see a familiar woman hanging in the doorway.</p>
<p>"Sorry to interrupt your class, Mr Wesley," the round woman said with a smile. "Mind if I steal Timothy Jesper away for a minute?" He blinked, still behind, and then he realised that she had said his name. He blinked again.</p>
<p>Oh no.</p>
<p>"Not for too long, Ms Townsend," Wesley replied, matching her smile. "We're just getting started on a positively thrilling unit." he looked away from her to Tim, raising an eyebrow. "Off you go, buddy. Unless you're not Tim."</p>
<p>"I'm Tim," he stammered, standing up awkwardly and shuffling towards the door. He nearly ran into Mia's desk and he could feel eyes on him, a few whispers burning his ears. He knew why.</p>
<p>Andrea Townsend was the school counsellor at Chesterville High School, a short and rotund woman who dressed in turtle necks all year round and wore her glasses on a string. Her dyed red hair sat in a neat bun, a pencil shoved through it, and the rainbow of bands and bracelets rattling on her wrists became its own catastrophic orchestra as she swung her arms. Everything about her screamed <em>teddy bear</em>, and Tim would've trusted her if she wasn't a school official. The badge on her breast clearly marked her status, and he could feel something unpleasant behind her square-toothed grin.</p>
<p>If you saw Andrea Townsend, it meant there was something wrong with you.</p>
<p>The door clicked shut and he was alone in the hallway with her, worried thoughts crowding his head as she turned to face him, still smiling far too widely.</p>
<p>"How are you, Tim? I'm Ms Townsend. You can call me Andrea if you like," she began, sticking out a hand boasting purple nails and four names written in messy blue pen across her palm. "I'm the school counsellor here. You might've seen me around."</p>
<p>"I've see you at the assembly." He couldn't help the hesitation in his voice as she took his hand and pumped it enthusiastically. "You always tell us where your office is."</p>
<p>"That I do." Her smile was unsettling.</p>
<p>"Am- am I in trouble-"</p>
<p>"Oh, no! Gosh no," she rushed, shaking her head. "Sorry, I should get to my point. You see, I'm starting a little club this year, with just four senior students. I was hoping you'd come down to my office at the beginning of third block, just so you can see what we'll be doing. There's already a note in the system for your teacher so they know you aren't truanting, so yo]u can come right after pre-lunch!"</p>
<p>"But- but why?" He felt guilty for being rude and questioning her, but he was worried now. He couldn't think of anything he'd done wrong, or anything he'd said. Why would she want to see him?</p>
<p>"Well." Andrea pursed her lips and winked. "You'll find out when you arrive, yeah?"</p>
<p>It wasn't like Tim could say no. She was essentially a teacher. And if she'd put in a note and he showed up to class, they'd be suspicious as to why he <em>wasn't</em> truanting.</p>
<p>"Okay." his voice was quiet, but Andrea still smiled.</p>
<p>"Brilliant! I look forward to seeing you then, Tim. You can head on back inside now. Can't miss out on too much of the play, it's an excellent one," she said, leaning to the left and pushing the door open. Tim simply nodded, walking back in on numb legs to the sound of Ciara reading. He didn't mind that they'd kept going without him.</p>
<p>As he sat down and picked up his book, he couldn't stop his head from stepping into overdrive.</p>
<p>He knew why this was happening, now. He knew. It was because he was too quiet. It was bound to happen eventually; his eldest sister Jessica had booked it to St Paul on her eighteenth with three close friends, wrapping up her diploma in the city and somehow still landing a scholarship to study medicine. Then Chris, his eldest brother, who hadn't spoken a word through all four years at Chesterville High. Sarah dropped out at seventeen per her boyfriend's request when she moved in with him. Now Jake was loud and constantly in trouble, Eric was a genius and Sam, while being majorly non-verbal, was a talented musician. Tim was just... Tim. Quiet. Out of the way. There was nothing wrong with being average, right?</p>
<p>Tim was okay with average. When did it become a problem?</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Well if you're gonna commit, shoot me first. I'd appreciate it."</p>
<p>"Uh... okay?"</p>
<p>"I might even give you a kiss."</p>
<p>"Wouldn't you be dead?" Rabbit paused. "And aren't you... y'know... gay?"</p>
<p>"Studies have shown it is impossible for me to die."</p>
<p>"Oh."</p>
<p>"You can stop talking to me now."</p>
<p>"Okay."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Truly, there's something wonderful about being the suicidal freak everyone avoids. Reason one: everyone avoids you because you're a suicidal freak.</p>
<p>"Someone's smoking in here," a voice muttered in disgust outside the cubicle.</p>
<p>"Just put on your fucking lip gloss and let's go," a second, more high-pitched voice whined. "I have asthma."</p>
<p>Adelaide Kane smirked from her perch on the toilet seat, smoke curling from her lips as she reached up and stubbed her cigarette out on the upper window ledge. She kicked the door open unceremoniously with the full force of her favoured leg and the two girls huddled over the sink leapt to the side, eyes wide, and her lip curled.</p>
<p>Freshmen. Clocked, on sight. It was in the clothes, the backpacks slightly too big for their shoulders, the irresponsible shoes, the make-up copied from their favourite MUA's YouTube. They wore everything that was cool in middle school. Adelaide almost felt bad for them. At least that explained why the asthmatic said <em>fuck</em> like she just learned how to say it.</p>
<p>"Second hand smoke can kill, y'know," she said casually, innocently flipping her light from hand to hand. "Ya'll should split."</p>
<p>"Asshole," the asthmatic spat, and Adelaide grinned. The other one grabbed asthma's shirt and tugged it lightly, mumbling something about a bridge, and asthma's crappily-lined eyes widened.</p>
<p>Reason two: everyone thinks being suicidal is contagious.</p>
<p>"I try my best. Now shoo before I use your twelvie tits as an ashtray." The two scurried out of the bathroom without further comment, the door swinging shut, and Adelaide smiled before returning to her awful gum-spotted throne.</p>
<p>The end cubicle of the second floor girl's bathroom was her sanctuary; the thin window towards the roof provided the perfect nook for her to smoke undetected. Between the classes she actually attended, Adelaide retreated here to unwind and abuse Mr Callaghan's Wi-Fi hotspot that he <em>always</em> left on to talk to all her internet friends and indirect people on Twitter. This toilet was the only thing she liked about school, and as long as her wannabe therapist of a father didn't find out she was ditching most her classes, it would stay that way.</p>
<p>Adelaide pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jeans, swiping her finger over the long crack in the screen to unlock the device. It takes a cursory glance to see no one she actually likes is online. It doesn't stop her from shooting off a quick DM to the nice Australian girl she had been tirelessly trying to get some from. The time zone difference was hurting her odds, but Adelaide was nothing if not persistent.</p>
<p>It was quiet, the only noise coming from the class next door reading out passages from the history textbook. The silence is almost temptation enough for Adelaide to light up another smoke, but she was running out. Pointless to waste one when God knew she'd need one if she actually showed up to maths in fifth.</p>
<p>The smoking was a habit she had picked up after being released from Amberson's Rehabilitation Centre for You People. The acronym ARCYP never really took off due to it's resemblance it bore to the sound of a cat hacking p a fur ball, so most affectionately called it the Mad House in a display of her hometown's incredible empathy. Her dad had been desperately trying to please her and figure out a way to make her <em>not</em> suicidal because he blamed himself for it all - spoiler alert: Adelaide kinda did too - and he was willing to do literally anything to make her happy. That included letting her try a cigarette when she oh so politely asked if she could. Even now he still viewed it as family bonding time; she saw it as good way to shut him out and abuse what she had over him. It's all in the charm, really. What's left of the Kane family brings a new meaning to dysfunctional. Dr Phil would have a fucking field day.</p>
<p>The bathroom door creaked open, and Adelaide couldn't find it in herself to suppress a sigh at the familiar clack of hollow hidden wedges on the tiles. She instead opened Tumblr and tried to ignore it. Of course, it was inevitable. The downside of having a single hangout was that people who are forced to regularly stalk you find out that fact pretty quickly.</p>
<p>In her peripheral Adelaide saw those ugly shoes stop right in front of her cubicle. She sighed again, louder this time to ensure she's heard, and leaned forward to unlock the door. It swung inward slowly to reveal a short woman leaning against the divider, her arms crossed, nose wrinkled.</p>
<p>"It stinks in here."</p>
<p>"Teachers aren't allowed in student toilets," Adelaide said, not looking up from her phone as she leaned back on the toilet seat. "That's how kiddos get molested."</p>
<p>"Charming. Also woefully insensitive and absolutely unacceptable."</p>
<p>"Funny, that's my Tinder bio!"</p>
<p>Andrea Townsend raised an eyebrow. "Come to my office in block three today and I won't report the smoking and truancy. You also get to skip two blocks and I won't ask why two freshman students were fleeing this bathroom complaining about the 'scary bridge girl<em>'</em>. I might even forgo the discussion on why we don't tolerate jokes about CSA."</p>
<p>"Tempting." she faked looking thoughtful, tapping a finger against her chin and pursing her lips. "I'll pass. I have some very important school work to do. First day of senior year and all."</p>
<p>"Not an option," Andrea added, and Adelaide pouted. "Compulsory meetings on order from the principal. I highly recommend you join us, seeing as I'm the only thing stopping you from being expelled. First day of senior year and all."</p>
<p>"Us?" That piqued her interest enough to stop her from commenting on Andrea's thinly veiled sarcasm. Little Miss <em>I'm a cute and cuddly school counsellor who can save you from yourself</em> wasn't very good at subtly if she wasn't picking out your brains to find out what's wrong with you. Adelaide always told her she shouldn't quit her day job. Andrea always replied with something along the lines of asking why she'd ever want to leave her favourite student. "Who else?"</p>
<p>"Three other students in your grade," Andrea explained, "as Principal Wright has decided I should run a support group of sorts to keep an eye on you guys, and I wholeheartedly agreed to the concept. Meeting other kids going through similar things as yourself will do you good, I think. I can't exactly say they're like you, because-"</p>
<p>"There's no one like me, I'm a special snowflake, I got it," Adelaide interjected, waving her hand. "Fine. I'll come to your little watch list club."</p>
<p>"I was going to say because none of them are girls, to my knowledge," Andrea sighed. "And it's not a watch list. It's-"</p>
<p>"Support groups are watch lists. Don't try and bullshit me." she interrupted again. "Do you want me to come or not?"</p>
<p>"That implies you have a choice."</p>
<p>"Feisty," Adelaide whistled, leaning forward as the toilet lid creaked under her shifting weight. "How much Xanax did you put in your coffee this morning?"</p>
<p>"Just enough to get me through a day knowing I'd be spending most of it with your sunny personality," the counsellor shot back, and Adelaide smiled.</p>
<p>Unlike most people in her life, Andrea was... bearable. Adelaide only got out of the Mad House halfway through sophomore year, and it was a condition of her rehabilitation that she return to school and finish her high school diploma in hopes a structured environment would aid her recovery. Andrea was still relatively new to the school then and greeted her with a dumb smile and an enthusiastic hand shake. She found out very quickly that that wasn't how Adelaide was going to work, and moulded herself to fit how the gears in her head turned. She adapted to her dry sense of humour, constant suicide jokes and general disregard for herself and the people around her. Andrea was flexible and accepting- she argued that yes, you could kill yourself, but here's a list of reasons why you <em>shouldn't</em>. It wasn't about controlling Adelaide, or fixing her, but rather about giving Adelaide the tools to work on her own terms. And, if Adelaide was feeling particularly vulnerable, she might even go so far as to say that Andrea was the closet thing she had to a friend.</p>
<p>"I'll see you in third block," Andrea said, drawing a yellow slip out of her pocket and dropping it in Adelaide's lap. "If I don't find myself watching you at my watch list club, I'll make sure you're expelled."</p>
<p>"Great to see you too, Andy!" Adelaide yelled after the counsellor as she left the toilets in time with the bell's angry shriek. The door shut with it's usual weird whining noise, and Adelaide stood up and stretched. Her shoulders popped as she rolled them, and she grinned.</p>
<p>Might as well jump the line of supposedly-fucked kids and get a good seat. She had a feeling this was going to be interesting.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>"Want anything else?" Andrea asked, tapping the mini fridge under her desk with her heel.</p>
<p>"Nah." Adelaide's voice was muffled by the chocolate bar in her mouth, and Andrea rolled her eyes.</p>
<p>"With those manners I'm sure you'll be charming all the ladies in time," she said as she stood.</p>
<p>"They'll love that I'm good with my mouth," Adelaide replied, holding a peace sign to her lips and sticking her tongue out.</p>
<p>"Harassment," Andrea said instantly, and she scoffed. "Don't do that, you're just spitting everywhere now." she grabbed her folders, sticking them under her arm. "C'mon. We're going next door."</p>
<p>"Is the meeting not in here?" she asked, interested. Andrea shook her head as she picked up her keys. "Why?"</p>
<p>"Larger environments provide a sense of freedom. My office might feel cagey if we have five people in here and could inspire feelings of being forced into the meetings."</p>
<p>"From the way you worded that it almost sounded like we <em>aren't</em> being forced into the meetings," Adelaide quipped, and Andrea gave her a pointed look. Adelaide held up her hands innocently, standing up.</p>
<p>"After you," the counsellor said, gesturing to the door. It was all a trap, however, because the moment Adelaide exited the room the first thing she did was almost have a heart attack. The hall was entirely empty, the bell having rung only seconds ago, save for a short boy with shockingly blonde hair that jumped away when he came face to face with Adelaide. His baby blues went comically wide and he looked just about ready to pass out- he was as white as sheet.</p>
<p>"Oh, Tim!" Andrea said brightly from behind her as she locked the door. "You're here early. Sorry to hold you up."</p>
<p>"Sorry I'm early." He sounded nervous, and he was tying his fingers up in knots. His pinkie finger was bleeding. "I didn't want to be late. You said I should come right after pre-lunch because of the note in the system so I- um, I wasn't sure how literal the was, or-" he stopped, swallowing.</p>
<p>"Did you have time to eat?" Andrea asked, concerned. "I have food in my office if you would like something."</p>
<p>"I'm not hungry," he said, shutting her down quickly. He cast his eyes down, and Adelaide wanted to gag. Mr Meek and Mild was already grating her nerves.</p>
<p>"If you're sure," Andrea said, and there was something in the way she said it that made whatshisname frown. "Let me just unlock the room, and you two can go sit inside." she stepped past him to the door, pushing her keys in, and the whole hallway was awkwardly silent as she pushed it open. Meek and Mild didn't look up as Adelaide stared at him, and then Andrea cleared her throat.</p>
<p>"You can head on in now," she said, and Adelaide pushed through to go find a good seat. To her dismay, there were five chairs pulled into a circle. Everything else had been pushed back to the walls. There was nothing blocking the windows though, and Adelaide had to give her credit for that. She was good at creating safe places. She wondered if the little blondie was feeling a sense of freedom and like he wasn't being forced into the meeting.</p>
<p>She sat in the seat that looked the most comfortable, and Meek and Mild sat on her right. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she prayed that he wouldn't try to start a conversation.</p>
<p>"Hi." His voice was quiet, timid, and he sounded slightly terrified. "I'm Tim." It looked like he was debating between going in for a hand shake or not, his hand frozen, and Adelaide raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>"I don't really care," she responded disinterestedly, flicking her eyes up from his hand to his big baby blues. He blanched, and it was like his hand disappeared up into his hoodie. Adelaide thought of a rabbit who'd just seen a fox. Rabbit Boy looked ready to die. "I'm digging the whole school shooter look, though. Hashtag relatable."</p>
<p>"I- uh-"</p>
<p>"I'm just going to wait out here," Andrea said warmly, her head peeking around the corner. Adelaide had almost forgotten she was there. "We're waiting for the other two now and I want to make sure they know which room they come to."</p>
<p>"They definitely can't miss you," Adelaide said under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest. She got around five seconds of blessed silence, and then he was talking again.</p>
<p>"I... how do I look like a... y'know?" Rabbit Boy asked quietly, and Adelaide side-eyed him.</p>
<p>"The hoodie. Bags under your eyes. That gun-shaped thing in your backpack."</p>
<p>"My- my pencil case?"</p>
<p>"Looks like a glock."</p>
<p>"Okay."</p>
<p>Adelaide raised an eyebrow. She'd never met a guy who just straight up didn't argue. He just kinda... accepted it. Her eyes narrowed. He was probably one of those kids who thought just agreeing would make her go away. He was probably using reverse psychology.</p>
<p>"Well if you're gonna commit, shoot me first. I'd appreciate it."</p>
<p>"Uh... okay?"</p>
<p>"I might even give you a kiss."</p>
<p>"Wouldn't you be dead?" Rabbit paused. "And aren't you... y'know... gay?"</p>
<p>"Studies have shown it is impossible for me to die."</p>
<p>"Oh."</p>
<p>"You can stop talking to me now."</p>
<p>"Okay."</p>
<p>Adelaide huffed, frowning as she pulled her phone out of her bag. Suddenly she regretted not having that smoke, because it looked like this wasn't going to be as fun as she thought.</p>
<p>Her opinion on that changed as soon as Elijah Shan stepped into the room.<br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Uh, no," Adelaide grinned, and despite her speaking all eyes darted to Eli. His heart sank. "You didn't let the second most popular fuck up in Chesterville have a turn."</p>
<p>"Adelaide, don't refer to your peers as fuck ups, please. And Eli-"</p>
<p>"Just cause we all know why he's here doesn't mean he should be skipped. He'll feel unwanted, Andy."</p>
<p>"I... well, y'know..." Eli trailed off, interruption dying on his tongue and unable to look up. Adelaide's face twisted.</p>
<p>"Own it, rich boy," she sneered.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Detention ate up the majority of his pre-lunch, leaving Conner with five minutes to scarf down the good luck sushi his father had made him - "Because this is going to be a good year! I can feel it!" he'd said, already desperate - and then no minutes to make it his third block class, where the office duty student was already waiting for him and clearly unimpressed by the fact Conner still had rice on his chin.</p>
<p>Conner only got one foot into the room before he was aware of <em>him</em>.</p>
<p>A bomb detonated in his head, an explosion that had his fists clenching and his jaw tightening and for a split second it was all he could see- blood, unable to tell what was his and what came from the broken body beneath him, and Conner wanted to either collapse into himself and beg to leave or punch him again. He wondered how long he'd last before he'd go off. His face was enough to coax out a physical reaction. What would his voice do? His proximity?</p>
<p>"Conner?" Andrea sounded concerned, and Conner forced his eyes to open. He didn't realise he'd closed them. One, two, three. Andrea could definitely see it on his face because she looked worried. "Are you okay-"</p>
<p>All he managed to say was a measly "What is he doing here?", and she frowned.</p>
<p>Andrea Townsend; school guidance counsellor and well known weirdo. Her office - the room next door to this tiny classroom she'd claimed for the 'meeting' - was supposedly covered in pictures of her son and any kind of elephant merchandise she could get her hands on. Jerrod from the team had got sent there after he set some shit on fire again, and reported the experience back in his dull, undetailed way. Even now Conner could see a small silver elephant pin stuck to the front of her knitted yellow sweater, and it's dead emerald eyes stared him down judgementally. The day Conner was judged by a fucking elephant pin from the dollar store was the day he died, so he swallowed the angry red bubbling up his throat and aimed his glare at the floor. He didn't want to look at him. He'd made it through two blocks and pre-lunch without seeing him, and he wouldn't end that streak willingly. Preferably, he wanted to never see Elijah's face again. <em>Ever</em>.</p>
<p>"Elijah has been asked to attend these meetings too, Conner. I hope this isn't an issue-"</p>
<p>"He's literally the entire issue," Conner hissed, disbelieving. "No one me-mentioned he'd be here!" If possible his rage spikes higher at his stupid fucking stutter. "Listen, I don't want to do this if I have to spend time with him in a tiny room twice a week where we sit in a circle and talk about our <em>feelings</em>-"</p>
<p>"Conner, please," Andrea said slowly, her voice calm. It irritated him. "Just sit away from him. He won't cause any trouble if you don't."</p>
<p>Eli - <em>Elijah</em> - had already caused enough trouble; trouble in the form of the whistle shattering the air when he didn't get up. Trouble came in many shapes and sizes but the most catastrophic events were moulded into hockey players with neat hair and too much history.</p>
<p>"Is there going to be a problem?" It was a quiet question, asked in a way that made Conner know that there was only one answer. He lifted his gaze up, feeling the bones in his hands cracking all over again.</p>
<p>"No."<br/><br/></p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>"Alright! Welcome to the club, kids. I'm Andrea Townsend, the school guidance counsellor. Some of you know me, some of you don't, but either way its fine," she started, smiling kindly as she sat in the last available seat. "You can call me Andy if you'd be more comfortable with that, or just Andrea. I don't understand the formality of Ms and Mr." Conner hated her already; it was obvious in his face. Eli hated that he could still read him so easily. But then again, what did he expect? It wasn't like one fight could erase six years of friendship, no matter how monumental it had been. He didn't wake up the next morning with a clean slate for a brain as much as he prayed for it.</p>
<p>It was completely and utterly silent as Andrea looked around their small circle of four, trying to gauge how difficult they were going to be. Judging from her small sigh she didn't like her results. Eli thought she wouldn't have been so see-through, but he'd seen this tactic before. Therapy wasn't new to him, and it would be a lie to call this little meeting anything else. Principal Wright could word it however she wanted, but he knew better.</p>
<p>"Let's start with something easy," Andrea decided, and he snapped out of his thoughts. "Say your name and something you enjoy. How about we start with you, sweetie?" Eli blanched when he realised she had gestured in his direction. Her nails were pink, a little butterfly sticker peeling off the index. It looked like a child had done it.</p>
<p>"Uh- well, hi, I guess," he attempted weakly, smile faint and lacking the charm he normally wouldn't leave the house without. His own self-awareness made him wince. "I'm Eli Shan and.. uh, I like hockey? But I mean, you probably know that." He laughed uncomfortably, almost missing Conner's muttered remark.</p>
<p>"And shooting up," he said under his breath, and Eli bit back the poisonous retort in the back of his throat. That would be unfair and he knew it. He had to be the bigger person, here. Prove them all wrong and show he's fine and he's over it because there was nothing to get over because he's fine even if three months ago he was best friends with the boy currently glaring holes through him.</p>
<p>"Conner," Andrea said sharply. "Stay in line. That's not a request." She gets a grunt in response, but Conner's gaze finally slides off him to abuse the floor instead.</p>
<p>"I'm Tim Jesper," the small blonde boy said hesitantly, looking a little spooked by it all. "I like photography." He was scarily pale, ashen under his wide blue eyes as he picked at his cuticles. His thumb was bleeding and there was dried blood on his palm. Eli wondered if he was even aware he was doing it.</p>
<p>"Conner Nakamura." he shrugged, looking out the window. "I like <em>actually </em>playing hockey and not spending all of my practice time behind the building with a fucking dealer-"</p>
<p>"Conner!" Andrea snapped, and it took everything in Eli's power to stay in his seat as he lurched forward. "Elijah, please stay down. Conner, we don't bring up each other's business. <em>Never</em>. It's incredibly rude. Now apologise to Elijah immediately."</p>
<p>"Soz," he said indifferently, and Eli was very tempted to tackle him out the window. Andrea forced a smile.</p>
<p>"Elijah, do you accept his apology?"</p>
<p>"No," he replied without hesitation, and Andrea nodded in response.</p>
<p>"Okay. You don't have to. May I remind us all that aggression won't be tolerated. Now, last but not least...?" Andrea prompted, and all eyes swivelled to the single girl in their circle. Everyone knew who she was. The dreaded, the infamous, the miracle herself-</p>
<p>"Adelaide Kane," she said, clearly bored. "I like drinking bleach."</p>
<p>"Adelaide," Andrea sighed. She snapped the gum between her teeth, her face inviting challenge. Andrea sighed a second time, deeper and more exhausted.</p>
<p>Adelaide Kane was somewhat of a legend at Chesterville High. In their freshman year her mom died of Lou Gehrig's, and her dad had a super-public breakdown at Walmart. Two months later she jumped off the Overpass with the intent of killing herself and bounced off the top of a truck into a ditch. She broke her legs in multiple places, punctured a lung, snapped her wrist clean through, fractured her jaw and eye socket and <em>didn't die</em>. A woman on the way to work an hour later found her in a pool of blood and called the police straight away until she noticed she was still breathing, but barely.</p>
<p>It was a miracle she lived, but she viewed it as a simple inconvenience.</p>
<p>She was in physio for eight months but was only allowed to leave a month into sophomore year when she could walk for longer than ten minutes and finished all her mandated therapy. Now she walks with a limp in her left leg, sports a light scar on her dark skin from under her ear to her chin and her right hand is slow, but she's alive. She hates it and has been subtly killing herself ever since. No one really has the heart to slow her down, and it certainly didn't stop <em>her</em>. There were rumours she tried to commit again last year. It had never been confirmed, but people did know she was sent back to the Mad House for a month. Everyone just kinda assumed.</p>
<p>Eli had never had a full conversation with her before. He knew Conner had once almost gotten into a fight with her on JJ's behalf, but that was the extent of their interactions. She was intimidating, aggressive and not at all a people person; that was probably why. Among other things.</p>
<p>"Now that we're all acquainted with each other," Andrea said, "How about we go back around the circle and tell the group why we think we're here." Eli froze up unbidden.</p>
<p>"I don't know." Conner announced his nothingness with a shrug, completely abandoning the idea of a circle. "I'm just doing this so I don't go on probation. When can I leave?"</p>
<p>"I tried to jump off the Overpass in freshman year. Unfortunately I survived," Adelaide drawled. "Apparently that makes me suicidal or something? Idk, idc."</p>
<p>"Did you actually just use text speak in a real life conversation?" Eli's voice was one part amused, one part disgusted.</p>
<p>"Bite me." She blew a pink bubble in his direction and he looked away, shaking his head.</p>
<p>"Uh... I have no idea?" Tim mumbled. Adelaide's bubble popped. He flinched.</p>
<p>"That's alright, sweetie," Andrea said, her face knowing and sad and uncomfortably transparent. "Now, next we'll-"</p>
<p>"Uh, no," Adelaide grinned, and despite her speaking all eyes darted to Eli. His heart sank. "You didn't let the second most popular fuck up in Chesterville have a turn."</p>
<p>"Adelaide, don't refer to your peers as fuck ups, please. And Eli-"</p>
<p>"Just cause we all know why he's here doesn't mean he should be skipped. He'll feel unwanted, Andy."</p>
<p>"I... well, y'know..." Eli trailed off, interruption dying on his tongue and unable to look up. Adelaide's face twisted.</p>
<p>"Own it, rich boy," she sneered.</p>
<p>"Some people aren't proud of trying to kill themselves," Conner muttered, and Adelaide rolled her eyes, miming a gun with her fingers and jamming it under her chin as Eli stood up. She pulled the trigger as his chair scraped back over the linoleum from the force and Tim winced. Eli's knuckles popped as his hands squeezed into fists, his heavy glare landing on Conner as the snake bared his fangs and spat acid onto his tongue. Eli swore that if Conner was close enough he would've seen writhing scales and gemstone eyes burning at the top of his throat and sickly green poison pooling around his gums. Maybe then Conner would know. Maybe then he'd stop. Maybe then he'd stay away like he'd promised the day he spat fire and tore him back open.</p>
<p>"I didn't try to kill myself!" Eli yelled, and Conner set his jaw as he stood up, marching across the circle.</p>
<p>"But you did try to drag everyone down with you, didn't you?" Conner yelled back, his voice equal to his, fiery and hot yet lacking the passion of their last fight. "You cared more about your fucking drug addiction than your team! You lied about everything you'd been doing and nearly got half of us sent to fucking jail!"</p>
<p>"At least I don't lie about my-" Suddenly Eli was on the ground, holding his jaw as he propped himself up on his elbow. Andrea was yelling at Conner to get out, the older boy's shoulders heaving and his fist spotted with blood as he stood over Eli, face twisted. Tim was curled up in his seat, tense and trying to lean back as far as possible but Adelaide was leaning forward, clearly interested as she applauded Conner's punch.</p>
<p>Eli grabbed his jaw, clicking it back and trying to ignore the blood spilling over his fingers and into his palm. There was something in the way Conner's chest heaved, how his shoulders shook and his lips parted. He's struck a chord without even uttering those words, and the look in his eyes was animalistic. The power Eli held over him was almost unfair.</p>
<p>"Hella," Adelaide said under her breath, a smirk gracing her lips as Tim's eyes widened.</p>
<p>"There will be no violence here!" Andrea yelled, grabbing Conner's arm. "Outside, <em>now</em>!" Conner didn't say anything, letting her tug him out, his burning eyes not once leaving Eli's.</p>
<p>The room was silent, and if you strained your ears you could almost hear Andrea telling him off.</p>
<p>"Are you okay?" Tim squeaked as Eli pulled himself up off the ground, massaging his jaw and trying not to hurt it more.</p>
<p>"Fine." he tried not to sound too blunt and failed. Tim retreated back into himself as Adelaide's grinned.</p>
<p>"What does he lie about?" she asked excitedly. "You can't just leave us on that cliff-hanger, dude!"</p>
<p>"I shouldn't have said anything," he said absently, not even talking to her, but still she pouted.</p>
<p>"Boring."</p>
<p>Andrea reappeared into the doorway, straightening her sweater, and three sets of eyes swivelled towards her. Eli automatically felt fear: if she reported this, he was done. His first strike was enough to constitute for all three, and it was only by a stroke of pure luck and a dash of a miracle that he was still here. The snake told him to fuck it and take Conner down, to punch and kick and scream and spit until he was on the ground in the exact same state Conner had left him last year. Eli didn't want to be the snake, no matter how tempting it was.</p>
<p>"Elijah, can I have you outside for a moment please?" she asked, low and controlled, and he hoisted his bag up onto his shoulder and started for the door. He could hear Adelaide making that obnoxious <em>ooo </em>noise, and then the door shut behind him, effectively trapping him outside with a pissed off counsellor and an even more pissed off Conner Nakamura.</p>
<p>"Conner has something he'd like to say," Andrea said, and neither of them looked up. "Conner." it had a warning note to it, and he huffed.</p>
<p>"Sorry I punched you," he muttered, and Andrea smiled.</p>
<p>"Perfect. Now, Elijah do you have anything to say?" she prompted.</p>
<p>"I accept your apology?" he said hesitantly, and she made a face, tilting her head towards Conner. "And- uh- I'm sorry too? I think." Conner might've actually growled.</p>
<p>"Now, I need the two of you to listen very closely to what I'm about to say," she said calmly. "We have private consultations once every two weeks after school on Wednesdays. Our group sessions are every Friday from three to four-thirty. Your attendance is compulsory unless you give me a valid reasons that I chose to clear with Principal Wright. If you're more than five minutes late to a private consultation or group session you'll be put on probation. If there is any more violence or unproductive arguments between the two of you, you will be put on probation. If there are any altercations outside of the school between the two of you, you <em>will</em> be put on probation. Do you understand?" Eli nodded, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and wincing at the blood smeared over the fabric. His mom was gonna lose her shit.</p>
<p>"Brilliant. Conner, back to class. Eli, come with me and I'll take you to the nurse's office," she instructed, and Conner shoved past him unceremoniously to retrieve his bag with Andrea hot on his heels, already apologetically explaining that their first meeting was being cut short, but that she appreciated everyone's timeliness and would hope it continues.</p>
<p>Eli didn't move from where he stood outside the door, lip bleeding and his hand still sticky with that same red, and for a moment he really, really wanted to just leave and go get wasted. He still had ways to get fucked up.</p>
<p>But instead he just shook his head and walked away; maybe this time he'd deal with his problems right.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"That's just your blue balls talking," she said with faux sympathy, patting him on the shoulder and dropping two crumbled twenty dollar notes in his open and waiting palm. "I'd say thanks, but that implies I feel anything other than contempt when I'm around you."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So if it goes until late, does that mean we can't meet up?" Conner could hear Ezra frowning and it made his head hurt. "But- this is, like, the only time we'll be able to meet up-"</p>
<p>"Ez. I have to go to this stupid meeting or they'll put me on probation again, and you know what Wright told me." He listened to Ezra sigh, deep and disappointed. "I can't get expelled in senior year, dude. I'll never be able to get anywhere without this stupid diploma." <em>My mom wouldn't let me </em>goes unspoken but not unheard.</p>
<p>"Drama queen," Ezra muttered, and Conner laughed.</p>
<p>"I know. I know." He softened, rubbing his forehead and sighing. "I'm sorry, man. I do want to see you. It feels like it's been forever." It wasn't so much a feeling as it was fact, but Conner would rather die than come off as clingy.</p>
<p>"Italy called," Ezra replied, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Big family, big reunion."</p>
<p>"A three month reunion?" Conner tried not to sound bitter. "All summer, bro. I have legit no friends beside you."</p>
<p>"Ugh. Don't <em>bro </em>me, weirdo. What about the hockey guys?" Conner was silent and Ezra sighed. "Still not talking to them?"</p>
<p>"Fuck 'em."</p>
<p>"Don't say that, Con. They're your best friends-"</p>
<p>"<em>You're</em> my best friend," Conner countered, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he fished his house key out of his back pocket. It was cheesy but true and despite it he could feel his face turning pink. He immediately scrubbed at his cheeks to be rid of it, almost taking an eye out with his keys in the process.</p>
<p>"Hate to break it to you, but you're, like, my third best friend. Not even best. You're just kinda bearable."</p>
<p>"And you're just kinda a jerk," Conner laughed, and Ezra did his weird snort-laugh.</p>
<p>"Are you home yet?"</p>
<p>"Just walking in," Conner said, shoving the door open with his shoulder and grabbing his phone before it slipped free. There were no other shoes in their makeshift genkan - makeshift in the sense this was a Western style home, so all they had was a rack and a tatami mat to make up for it - and it was surprisingly quiet in the way after school hours in the Nakamura house normally weren't. Matthew, Cameron and Lisa must still be getting picked up. Conner stopped as he closed his eyes, standing in the doorway and relishing in the silence before Ezra spoke again.</p>
<p>"Alright. Talk to you tomorrow?" he asked, and Conner smiled.</p>
<p>"Of course." a pause. "I really do miss you, Ez."</p>
<p>"I know." He sighed, breathy and tired. "I'll see you soon."</p>
<p>"Soon," Conner mumbled. It'd only take a second to invite him over- the request was on the tip of his tongue, but the lingering threat of his parent's return stopped him. They - or rather, his mom - didn't like Ezra. At all. He was completely removed from Conner's usual circle of friends, a wannabe photographer who hated sports with a passion similar to Conner's hatred of people who hated sports with the exception of Ezra. His mom couldn't understand why or how Conner had befriended him the first place, but since when did they ever try to understand him? All Ezra represented to his parents was an obstacle. A distraction from school and hockey. "Bye, Ezra."</p>
<p>"Bye, Conner," the other said softly, and then his voice was replaced with crackling static.</p>
<p>It was the second time that day Conner felt so overwhelming alone, fist aching, and he lightly pressed his phone against his forehead, staring at the screen and Ezra's contact cross-eyed.</p>
<p>He wondered when it was all going to be worth it.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>"Mom, can I talk to you?" Tim asked, and Carly Jesper didn't look up from two year old Evan as she massaged strawberry shampoo into his scalp. Cons of not having a bathtub: Evan gets washed in the kitchen sink. Tim learnt eventually to not confuse dish soap with baby shampoo when he did the dishes, although it did take two weeks of the plates having an odd strawberry residue on them. Some are permanently stained pink, and he still can't eat toast without tasting the phantom remains of soap.</p>
<p>"What was that peanut? Oh, pass me the towel," she instructed, and Tim dutifully handed her the scratchy grey towel. She pressed it over Evan's eyes, prompting the little boy to hold it with his chubby fingers. Tim found himself absently wondering if his fingers looked like that, and his skin itched.</p>
<p>"I was wondering if you had a spare moment so I could talk to you," Tim repeated, scratching his wrist. "About the first day of school? Today? Some stuff happened and I just feel like I should tell you-"</p>
<p>"I'm a bit busy now Timmy," she said distractedly as she filled up the water jug to pour over Evan's head. "And we always talk about our days over dinner, remember?" Tim nodded, and she briefly looked up at him to smile. "You can tell us all about it then, my little senior." She ruffled his hair with a soapy hand, and he smiled. It felt forced. He didn't mean for it to be. That worried him. "Sound good, peanut?"</p>
<p>"Great," he said, nodding again. "Uh, when is dad getting home?"</p>
<p>"Did you say something, Tim?" she asked, tipping the jug over Evan's head again. The little boy squealed and splashed his arms as Tim winced, briefly looking down at his wrist when he felt something wet.</p>
<p>He was bleeding, and it was colouring the soapy foam Evan had left on him red. He watched the colours blend and felt sick to the stomach. The soap stung, and he slapped a hand over his wrist to cover it up before Carly noticed. It didn't stop the niggling suspicion in the back of his head that she wouldn't either way.</p>
<p>"Never mind," he said quietly, and he exited the kitchen as fast as he could without looking rushed. He needed to wash his hands.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>"That's fucking crazy," Pete said as he fumbled through his backpack for his lighter. "He just fully decked him? What a mad man." he scowled when he didn't find it, and Adelaide tossed her Bic into his hands. The quicker he lit up the quicker she got her shit, she figured. That cute girl from Australia might be online.</p>
<p>"It was sick," Adelaide agreed, jamming her hands into her pockets. It was impossibly cold for the end of summer. "He legit bled all over his shirt and when he popped his jaw back everyone heard the crack." she paused. "Now stop with the small talk. Do you have the shit I asked you for?"</p>
<p>"Yes indeedy I do. Aren't you just a ray of sunshine this afternoon?" Pete quipped as cupped his hands around the cigarette hanging from his lips, flicking the lighter to life. "Hey, that rhymed!" he realised, perking up. "I'm a fucking poet."</p>
<p>"I didn't come here for friends. I came here for weed," she replied. "I could be at home right now, watching Netflix, but instead i'm here with you behind the gym ready to fork over a crisp forty for virtually nothing."</p>
<p>"It's not my fault there's a shortage," Pete muttered, pulling his bag off his shoulder as he passed back her lighter. "My guy's struggling as it is." Adelaide had heard quite about his fabled 'guy'. It was probably Bruce, the cashier at the sex shop on fifth. He mainly did cocaine, but he had a thing for dudes under twenty-five. If Pete played up the charm and convinced him he was legal - unlike the shit he was peddling - he'd probably get anything out of him without even needing to give him a blowjob.</p>
<p>"I wish G was still dealing," she huffed, snatching the cigarette out of Pete's mouth. He made a noise of protest, slapping her arm indignantly as he rifled through his bag further. Adelaide gave him a look that threatened to break his hand, and he rolled his eyes. "He'd never price so high cause he actually liked keeping customers. Too bad he's up and disappeared."</p>
<p>"Rumour has it G was behind Elijah Shan's OD," Pete said cryptically. "Makes sense to me. Eli was dating Lilly Gregory then, wasn't he? That gave him the connection."</p>
<p>"I don't pay attention to his bullshit. I do pay attention to your prices, though. They've been going up all summer," Adelaide said, handing the cigarette back. "You're lucky I'm too tired to fight you over it."</p>
<p>"Demand goes up, supply goes down, prices go up. It's the roller coaster of business management."</p>
<p>"Put that on your college application," she shot back, and Pete flipped her off.</p>
<p>"I'm legit a high school senior, you wad. <em>You </em>go and try being the only dealer in Chesterville who'll sell without needing an ID while balancing homework."</p>
<p>"Since when did drug dealers have a moral code?" Adelaide scoffed.</p>
<p>"We're all respectable people. Come down to one of the community brunches where we review stock and sales and you'll see."</p>
<p>"Stop talking and give me the fucking weed, Peter."</p>
<p>"Yes, m'lady," he sighed, pulling the plastic packet out of the middle pocket in his bag. "Y'know, it's senior year. Last year in this shit hole." he kicked the wall behind him for emphasis like he expected her to not know what he was talking about. "If I ask you on a date will you punch me in the balls again?"</p>
<p>"I'm still a fucking lesbian, Pete," she said, slapping him around the back of the head. His cap was knocked straight off, and he mumbled a curse as he bent down to pick it up. "Unless you're asking on behalf of your sister. I'm down to go down on her any day."</p>
<p>"You're fucking disgusting." he fixed his cap back on his head, scowling. "That's my sister."</p>
<p>"That's just your blue balls talking," she said with faux sympathy, patting him on the shoulder and dropping two crumbled twenty dollar notes in his open and waiting palm. "I'd say thanks, but that implies I feel anything other than contempt when I'm around you."</p>
<p>"Love you too, Addie," he sighed. "Call me when your gay phase is over, yeah?"</p>
<p>"Call it a phase again and I'll rat you out to the cops <em>while</em> fucking your sister in your bed, bitch. I can multi-task. I'll call you when I need weed," she said, punching his arm. "Don't talk to me until then."</p>
<p>"So it's a date?"</p>
<p>"Only in your wet dreams," she called over her shoulder, kissing her middle finger before holding it up high in the air. Pete yelled a half-hearted 'fuck you' back, and Adelaide rolled her eyes as she rounded the corner.</p>
<p>Fucking straight people.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Eli had been staring at the blinking symbol on his computer for what felt like years, fingers poised above the keys. None of his contacts had been so much as looked at in four months, and it hurt to see the last messages he sent. There was one from JJ asking if Coach Adamos had talked to him about getting his C stitched for senior year, or if he was getting a new jersey. There was a notification telling him he'd been removed from the Chesterville Knights chat and his last message to Conner. He didn't open it. He didn't feel like reliving that moment, and just seeing his name made his jaw ache. He'd managed to get past Rachel before she saw the blood on his shirt and thanked the lord that Abel had left him some emergency make up before he left for Japan. While Abel had probably intended it for more fun uses, Eli found that it was effective in covering the ugly bruise currently blooming on his face. He could do nothing about the split lip but hope it didn't start bleeding again and excuse it as biting too hard.</p>
<p>He blinked when he saw the green <em>online</em> notification pop up on his screen, and he suddenly wanted to bail. It would be easy to forget he ever tried to get through; to just close his computer and preoccupy himself with something else. Instead he took a deep breath, searching up a name and opening the chat.</p>
<p>
  <b>eli - can I talk to you? </b>
  <em>sent 5:48</em>
</p>
<p>He exhaled, slumping back in his chair and watching his computer intently. He had a headache, but when <em>sent</em> changed to <em>seen</em> he felt like he'd been attached to a live wire.</p>
<p>
  <b>lilly is typing...</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>lilly - I told you not to contact me anymore. </b>
  <em>sent 5:51</em>
</p>
<p>Eli's eyes widened.He hadn't actually expected her to reply, so he practically leapt back onto the keys. He didn't know how long he'd get with her.</p>
<p>
  <b>eli - I know. but I saw you in homeroom and it felt kinda unavoidable </b>
  <em>sent 5:51</em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>lilly - it's very easily avoidable, actually. probably like the fight you had with Con. everyone has already heard about it and i'm just surprised you managed to last 3 blocks before you got in shit again </b>
  <em>sent 5:52</em>
</p>
<p><b>eli - you don't know the context</b> <em>sent 5:52</em></p>
<p><b>lilly - I don't need to know the context. if you're involved it's got bad idea written all over it. stop talking to me or i'll block you for good</b> <em>sent 5:53</em></p>
<p><b>eli - lilly please I just need to talk to you about it</b> <em>sent 5:54</em></p>
<p>
  <b>eli - I need to know where G is </b>
  <em>sent 5:54</em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>eli - lilly </b>
  <em>sent 5:55</em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>eli - lilly? </b>
  <em>sent 5:55</em>
</p>
<p><b>eli - I still want you</b> <em>sent 5:55</em></p>
<p>
  <b>eli - i'm sorry</b>
  <em> sent 5:56</em>
</p>
<p><b>eli - for everything</b> <em>seen 5:56</em></p>
<p>The little symbol declaring his message was seen burned into the back of his eyes, ringing in his ears with a poisoned finality. He rested his head in his hands, closing his computer harder than he needed to.</p>
<p>There was too much he needed to say to her. Too much he needed to talk about.</p>
<p>It was too much.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>they don't call me captain short chapter for nothing</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Eli..." Ariel breathed his name, sad, and Rachel's face didn't change.</p><p>"Finish your food," was all Rachel said, and Eli avoided Ariel's sympathetic gaze as he grabbed his fork, his hands shaking.</p><p>Same old, same old.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: the r slur is used in this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim didn't actually hear his mom call for dinner, but outside the bathroom door he heard the stampede of rushing feet that always accompanied the mass exodus for food. There was a loud bang against the bathroom door - probably Jake - and then Eric yelled that he needed to piss, so Tim cleared the room quickly and made his way down the staircase when the risk of him being thrown down it had lowered beneath eighty percent.</p><p>"Seats, everybody!" Carly yelled as she and Sarah unpacked tonight's meal. KFC. "If you aren't sitting in the next five seconds, you aren't eating!" Chairs scraped across kitchen tiles as people fought for the seats closest to their favourite food, and Trinity hurriedly locked Evan into his high chair as Tim found a spare seat. Sarah smiled at him, mouthing a hello, and Tim made a half-hearted smile back. Sarah was one of his older sisters: she was nineteen and lived between their family house and her shared apartment with her boyfriend. She only stayed here when it was bad, and guessing from the badly hidden purple staining her wrists and the stressed look on Carly's face, it was bad.</p><p>"Roll call!" Carly yelled, banging her palm against the table three times. It fell silent, and even Jake stopped harassing Sam mid-shove. "Trinity?"</p><p>"Here!" she announced.</p><p>"Elle?"</p><p>"Present."</p><p>"Eric?"</p><p>"Yep."</p><p>"Sam?"</p><p>"Yeah." That yeah was supplied by Eric, who acted as Sam's voice the majority of the time.</p><p>"Jake?"</p><p>"Can you tell Sam to stop being an-"</p><p>"Shut it. Tim?"</p><p>"Here."</p><p>"Evan?" The baby gurgled, shaking his high chair.</p><p>"Sarah?"</p><p>"Right beside you."</p><p>"And last but not least, Michael," Carly said with a tired smile, kissing her husband's forehead. "Alright, everyone's here! Make sure you thank your father for picking this up on the way home. Tuck in!"</p><p>There was an immediate battle for the chicken wings with Eric coming out on top, victoriously ripping into it and subtly flipping a furious Jake off. Sam high-fived his twin across the table as Sarah took the rest of the wings. Trinity had managed to scoop most of the potatoes and gravy onto the table top and Evan had thrown his chips onto the floor and Jake's violent argument with Eric was starting to make Elle teary eyed, and Tim stared down at his plate and realised he honestly had no appetite.</p><p>"How was everyone's first day back?" Carly asked as she tipped the popcorn chicken onto her plate.</p><p>"Boring," Sam and Eric said simultaneously. One far quieter than the other.</p><p>"Celia is gonna go to cheerleading try-outs," Elle said, sniffling as she tore her chicken tender in half. "She knows I can't do it cause of my asthma. And my science teacher is really mean and told-"</p><p>"There was a fight!" Jake said excitedly, cutting her off. "I saw one of the guy's after it. He had blood all over his shirt and his face and it was sick!"</p><p>"Gross!" Trinity yelled, throwing a chip at him. Jake looked fiery, picking up a fistful of chips in response and shooting to his feet.</p><p>"Hey, hey!" Carly roared. "Sit your tush down, buster. Throw that food at your sister and I'll throw you out." Jake sat down dejectedly, muttering a curse under his breath as Trinity stuck her tongue out at him. "Keep it <em>civilised</em>, kids. I didn't raise you in a barn."</p><p>"It just smells like one," Eric said quietly, and Jake snickered as Carly glared him down.</p><p>"One more cheeky word and you're off to bed, Sam. Or Eric. Whichever one you are," she sighed, rubbing her face.</p><p>"I'm Sam," they said simultaneously, and everyone laughed as Carly groaned. Tim's laugh sounded uncomfortable, and he wondered if anyone else heard it as he stared down at his food.</p><p>"So. Trinity, how was <em>your</em> day?" their mother asked, smiling tiredly, and Trinity grinned.</p><p>"Awesome! We got a note for a field trip to the art museum!" she said, and it got quieter. "Can I go? Pretty please?" her eyes were wide, pleading, and Carly plastered a smile on her face.</p><p>"I'll see if I can work it in with this month's bills," she promised. "I'll try my best, Trin. Promise."</p><p>"Cool!" she sang, and Carly shared a look with their father anxiously. Michael rested a hand on her knee, and Carly leant into him with a soft smile.</p><p>"Tim?" she said, clearing her throat. "How was your day?"</p><p>"I- Alright, I guess," he said quietly.</p><p>"Speak up, peanut."</p><p>"I said it was alright," he said, raising his voice. "I'm in tier two English with Mr Wesley, and I'm in this- like- group, thing. The other kids all have done bad stuff or aren't- like, alright, so I think I'm in there because I'm quiet, y'know? I don't think I've done particularly bad in any classes or anything wrong, so maybe they think I just need to socialise more." Carly was silent, confusion written clearly over her face.</p><p>"What kind of bad stuff?" Michael asked, and Tim jolted. It was the first words he'd heard his dad speak all night, and everyone seemed just as surprised. Their dad didn't talk much. It wasn't his fault, he just wasn't... <em>chatty, </em>like the rest of the family. Different seemed too harsh of a word no matter how it was used when directed to his father, but whatever you wanted to call it, Tim liked that about him. The rest of the family was far too loud, bar the two who didn't speak at all. His father was calm and concise and clean and didn't mince his words. Tim felt he understood his father best out of everyone.</p><p>"Well... I dunno." he looked down at his food again, worry suddenly gnawing at him. Had he said the wrong thing? "One of them is Elijah Shan, the guy who got into all that trouble last year with the drugs. And Conner Nakamura, the one who got into those fights and put Elijah in the hospital again right after he got out, and Adelaide Kane. I don't really know her but she said she likes drinking bleach, and then said something about how she jumped off a bridge a few years ago? That's all I really remember." The table was silent as every eye turned to him, shocked and confused.</p><p>"R-e-t-a-r-d," Jake sang teasingly, breaking the silence.</p><p>It took only a split second for Carly to react at the use of that word. It was banned in their household, and for good reason.</p><p>"Jackson Jesper!" She yelled, outraged, and Michael flinched. Sam squeezed his hands over his ears and Trinity made a soft, upset sound, shaking her head rapidly at the sudden shout. "That is <em>it</em>! Go to your room!"</p><p>"You can't do that! I'm sixteen!"</p><p>"And I'm your mother, so go to your room now! We <em>do not </em>use that word in this home, <em>period</em>-"</p><p>"Well fuck you!" Jake spat, shoving the table as he stood up. Elle gasped as Sam and Eric whispered "shit" simultaneously.</p><p>"Excuse me?" Carly snapped.</p><p>"I said <em>fuck you</em>!" Jake yelled, and then he was stomping up the stairs. The door to their room slammed, and Carly looked down to Michael desperately.</p><p>"Go talk to him?" she pleaded, and Michael stared back at her, brow furrowing. Carly sank back down into her seat, head in her hands, and everyone remained silent.</p><p>"Sarah, Tim, will you guys clean up?" she said softly. "I want rooms clean before bed, and I'll be checking. And if you don't brush your teeth again tonight Eric I'll do it for you."</p><p>There was the general chorus of "yes, mom" as Sarah started stacking plates, and just like that the room was clear. Trinity bounced into the living room, switching on the TV and finding an old rerun of the Simpsons. She put Evan on the floor in front of the TV, kissing the top of his head before running up the stairs. Sam and Eric were hovering on the landing, crouched and staring through the bars with eerily identical facial expressions, talking in hushed voices. Carly stood up and shuffled into the living room, sitting and curling up. Michael stared at her from his seat at the dining table, frowning, and Tim could practically see the gears turning in his mind. Tim personally was of the mind it was pointless to have his dad talk to Jake. Jake didn't get him like Tim did; didn't understand how to speak to him.</p><p>"You didn't eat much," Sarah noted, talking to Tim over her shoulder as she rooted through the sink cupboards for the dust pan. "Want something else?"</p><p>"I'm not hungry," Tim replied, and Sarah frowned as he hurriedly pushed the empty boxes into the bag.</p><p>"Might be a good thing," she said lightly, her tone teasing. "Gotta build up that muscle." She poked his stomach as she walked past to scoop up the mess on the floor, and it was like his entire being poured out of the hole she'd just stabbed in him. He forced a smile, scratching his wrist as he carried the bag of rubbish to the bin beside the fridge.</p><p>"Go on and shower. I'll handle this," Sarah said, tilting her chin towards the stairs. "Good to get in before the rest of the herd while they pretend to clean."</p><p>"Are- are you sure? I can help-"</p><p>"Timmy. Go shower. I've got this." She winked. "You can get off cleaning duty for just one night, promise." Tim nodded, faking a laugh. He walked up the stairs without hurrying, locking himself in the bathroom and standing in front of the mirror. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it up to his chest, standing sideways and staring intently at his stomach in his reflection.</p><p>He could see all the holes people had poked in him, and when he looked inside himself he didn't know what he saw.</p><p>That scared him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Adelaide steeled herself as she reached the gate to her house, taking a deep breath before she unhooked the latch. She could see her father through the window, framed by his try-hard checker print curtains as he hunched over a steaming pot, side eyeing whatever was burning inside. The plant on the window sill hadn't died yet to her surprise, but beyond his attempt at a sunny façade she could see the reality: newspapers and bills piled up on the dining table, the basket of unfolded washing no doubt still wet in the corner of the kitchen, the mismatched chairs that tried to scream <em>quirky!</em> but yelled something more along the lines of <em>salvation army!</em>. Beyond that? Two shitty bedrooms, an excessively nice couch in front of a TV there was no way they could afford, a bathroom doubled as a laundry that couldn't run hot water because <em>someone</em> forgot to pay the bill, and last but not least the loose floorboard under the window at the end of the hallway hiding a box full of emergency cash and a gun. That was the last of her mom's life insurance claim, and Adelaide didn't like to think about it.</p><p>"Here we go," she sighed, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she leaned back. The gate clicked with finality as she unlocked her phone and pulled up twitter, jumping into her DMs and marching up the path with determination.</p><p>It was immediate.</p><p>"How was school today, baby girl?" Hector asked from the stove as he stirred the pot of pasta. It was burning. Hector doesn't know how to cook pasta. That was mom's job, back when she could move. Back when she could, y'know, breathe on her own. Hector doesn't know how to live on his own, apparently. He has a habit of forgetting that in the beginning he wasn't alone, and that there was a very scared young girl who really needed her daddy. Look where that got them. Daddy's a mess, daughter's an even bigger mess. No mommy to pull out the mop and clean them up this time.</p><p>"I saw a fight," Adelaide said, not looking up from her phone as she kicked the door shut behind her. "Other than that it was pretty fucking shit."</p><p>"Language."</p><p>"Bite me."</p><p>"Who fought?"</p><p>"Hockey assholes. The druggie and the angry one."</p><p>"The one who got on TV?"</p><p>"Yep. I'm going to my room."</p><p>"Why were you home late?"</p><p>"Like you care."</p><p>"I <em>do</em>."</p><p>"Fucking bite me, Hector," she spat, halfway down the hallway.</p><p>"Nice to see you too, Adelaide!" he yelled, and she slammed her door for good measure before collapsing on her bed. She pawed her bag out from under her, grabbing her weed and searching for her paper. It was in her empty fruit roll-ups box. Adelaide had an appreciation for irony.</p><p>Once she had lit her cigarette and taken her first drag, she dug her calendar out from under her bed and flicked to the current month. She smiled with satisfaction as she marked off another day as not being suicidal, then tossed it off into oblivion as she relaxed back into her bed. The smoke settled around her face, and she felt content. That content feeling was almost immediately washed away when she realised she was thinking about what everyone else in Andrea's Watch List was doing right at that moment.</p><p>She scowled up at the roof, angrily blowing smoke.</p><p>She was not about to get attached to the shitty, fucked up kids at Chesterville.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The table was silent as Eli ate, and he could feel Rachel's eyes burning into his scalp as he pushed the potato bake around on his plate.</p><p>"This is absolutely delicious, Rach," Ariel said cheerily. He was lying. It was burnt. Or maybe she had strategically burnt his portion. "So, Elijah, how was the first day of school?"</p><p>"Fine," he muttered, and out the corner of his eye he saw Rachel's knuckles whiten around her fork.</p><p>"Did anything exciting happen?"</p><p>"Not really." He wondered if his make-up was still doing it's job. If they got even the hint of something being off, who knew how they'd react. The snake whispered in the back of his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut and stabbed his food violently. They didn't seem to notice.</p><p>"Any new teachers or students?" Ariel pried.</p><p>"Nope."</p><p>"Homework?"</p><p>"English worksheet. Did it already."</p><p>"How are your friends?"</p><p>"I'm not allowed to talk to them. In case you didn't notice, my only friends were on the hockey team. <em>You</em> banned me from talking to them. Ring any bells?" He said it with more venom than he'd expected. Ariel pursed his lips and he heard Rachel  inhale sharply.</p><p>"Cut the attitude now," she said lowly. "Don't talk to your father like that."</p><p>"It's not my fault you decided to completely isolate me from everyone in my life."</p><p>"It is, actually," Rachel said testily, and Ariel said her name under his breath in warning.</p><p>"Does anyone want another drink?" he asked cheerily, trying to clear the tension. "I bought some lemonade at Corborn's today and while I was there I saw the funniest looking dog-"</p><p>"We can't just keep excusing this behaviour," Rachel hissed. "You have no right to speak to us with the disrespect you do after everything we've done for you. We deserve better than that." Eli didn't say anything, staring down at his food. Rachel's face was getting redder and redder. This wasn't her true, real anger; her <em>real</em> anger was cold and sharp tones, armed with cutting words and rolled eyes and the icy, sophisticated hint of violence cloaked by her folded arms and cocked chin. "Elijah. Look at me when I'm talking to you-"</p><p>"I got put in a support group," Eli said, voice controlled and frosty. "With Conner, some other kid and Adelaide Kane. <em>Adelaide Kane</em>, mom." He looked up through his eyelashes, fists clenched tight under the table. "They think I'm suicidal. That there's something <em>wrong</em> with me."</p><p>"Eli..." Ariel breathed his name, sad, and Rachel's face didn't change.</p><p>"Finish your food," was all Rachel said, and Eli avoided Ariel's sympathetic gaze as he grabbed his fork, his hands shaking.</p><p>Same old, same old.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"Nice to see you've finally come out of your room."</p><p>Conner rolled his eyes, sitting down heavily at the bench and blinking through the lingering sleep in his system.</p><p>"I took a nap," he said gruffly, and his father laughed.</p><p>"Careful of your sleep schedule. School took that much out of you, huh?" Joseph asked gently, and Conner looked down. He made sure to keep his hands under the table, where his bruised knuckles weren't visible. That would prompt concern.</p><p>"What's that smell?" he asked, avoiding his question. He pretended not to notice how Joseph's shoulders sagged.</p><p>"Tonkatsu. Used to be your favourite," he said, smiling fondly. "You asked for it every night, and your mother started calling you pork pie- Butaniku, if I remember. Then your grandmother visited and got angry that we weren't using the Japanese language correctly, and then she started yelling at your mom for marrying a white American. It was terrifying then, amusing now. Do you remember the time you were talking to her- god, you were maybe seven, and you switched to English halfway through a sentence, and she raged like crazy-" his voice faded into the background as Conner sighed, rubbing his forehead and trying to not get pissed off at his shitty attempt to make it look like he wasn't on edge. Honestly, he was surprised he wasn't used to it by now; ever since his incident with... with <em>Elijah, </em>this was how it had been. And if that was bad, what happened at Christmas was earth-shattering. His skin crawled at the thought of it. Another reminder was fast approaching: his Aunt and Uncle's divorce was going to be finalised sometime in the coming week. He supposed he was lucky what happened only barely affected his family. It ruined Hinata and Derek.</p><p>"Was that an audible sigh I just heard?" Joseph gasped, looking up from his bread crumbs. "How moody and teenage angst-y of you, Conner." he paused. "Rough day?"</p><p>"Rough day, rough week, rough year, no difference," he muttered, and Joseph stiffened. The thought of Christmas was on the edge of everyone's minds, but it was an unspoken rule to not talk about it. Conner was sick of those rules and how they crawled around his neck and tightened and tightened until he was suffocating- when would his parents realise his life had to, at some points, revolve around more than grades and hockey? Sometimes, he had feelings. What happened didn't just impact the family; it hit him <em>hard</em>. It changed everything. They hadn't heard from his grandparents in months. Fortnightly dinners with his cousins were cancelled. Not being able to talk about it just made the whole thing feel like a fucking tumour in his brain constantly about to explode.</p><p>That was Conner. Always on the brink of calamity.</p><p>"Well- uh- tell me about your day," Joseph said hurriedly, slapping a piece of pork into the breadcrumbs and rolling it aggressively. "Did you finally have a cafeteria flash-mob? Any new students? Are you happy with your classes? Anything worth noting?"</p><p>"I got a detention for talking in English."</p><p>"Was the teacher talking?" He had That Tone, and Conner scowled.</p><p>"No. We were just doing work," he said, exasperated. "Stop pretending you're mom."</p><p>"You know how she gets about your school work, Conner-"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, I know," he huffed. "School and hockey, gotta be a balance, maintain good grades, blah blah blah, helicopter parenting, blah blah blah."</p><p>"Hey. No attitude." He tried to say it as an admonishment, but his voice was too tender. "She just wants you to do well. Set a good example for the little kids."</p><p>"Matthew's on the honour roll, Cameron's got the highest save percentage of his team's history. Lisa's <em>seven</em> and already a genius." he rolled his eyes. "I'm more of a 'don't end up like the problem child' example."</p><p>"Conner..."</p><p>"It's true," he muttered. "Don't pretend you and mom don't say that when you think we've all gone to sleep."</p><p>"You're not the problem child!" Joseph sighed, moving the pork he was finished with to another tray. The sauce was simmering. "You're just different to the other three, which isn't a bad thing. You're the first born, which means we're bound to hit some bumps raising you." he clearly regret his words immediately, grimacing, and Conner wanted to laugh. It was either laugh or scream.</p><p>It was silent in the kitchen, the only noise coming from the spitting pot and the quiet crunch of the breadcrumbs. Conner was enjoying the ambiance until Joseph ruined it.</p><p>"Y'know..." Joseph started hesitantly, "This is the longest conversation we've had since what happened with Elijah." Conner didn't miss a beat, automatically standing up abruptly.</p><p>"Call me when dinner's ready," he said blankly, and Joseph sighed.</p><p>"Conner, c'mon," he said, tired, and Conner couldn't look him in the eye.</p><p>"I'll be in the garage," he muttered, and Joseph tried to call him back again. Conner pretended not to hear him, shutting the garage door with more force than intended. His ears were ringing as he taped his hands and pulled his hair back out of his face. He'd always been more of a punch-it-out guy than a talk-it-out guy anyway.</p><p>God how he wished he could just <em>speak</em>.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"So because of what happened last year you're in a club," Adanna said incredulously, taking another bite from her sandwich. "But not a cool club." her words were muffled, crumbs falling out of her mouth, and Conner shrugged.</p>
<p>"It's fucking stupid-"</p>
<p>"I'm not finished processing," Adanna interrupting, swallowing and dusting off her hands. "You're in a club for other kids who've fucked up or are fucked up in some way, Mr He Who Shall Not Be Named God Forbid You Act Like A Pouty Baby is there too, you punched him in the face, and now you're in trouble." she paused, tapping her chin and feigning thoughtfulness. "Sounds awful fucking familiar, don't you think?"</p>
<p>"Shut up."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim couldn't help his excited shiver, fingers fluttering in his lap as the last few students shuffled into the classroom, signalling it's beginning. While he didn't necessarily excel in photography, it was still without a doubt his favourite class. He'd always been fascinated by practical photographic practise and the science behind it, the arguments between Niépce and Daguerre, camera obscura... he'd read François Brunet's <em>The Birth of Practical Photography</em> probably eight hundred times, to the point of the librarian even holding it for him before he'd come in to check it out again. Tim could get carried away for hours talking about everything he loved about it, regurgitating every fact and figure and name and date stored in his brain. Sometimes, when his dad was home and they were sitting together quietly, he'd ask him a question and let Tim just rattle off without a care. It was nice, to talk and feel listened to without being embarrassed. It was rarer now with how hard his dad worked and how busy Tim often found himself. At least he always had Brunet to return to.</p>
<p>"Welcome back to photography!" Miss Jasmine yelled from where's she was perched on her desk as people shuffled to their seats, chatter dying and chairs scraping. "I want books out and a brainstorm on possible projects under the theme of 'intertwined' in ten minutes!" she smiled, clapping her hands. "Remember the seating plan, children! List is up here on the board!" she pointed gleefully as groans and complaints erupted, and bags were abandoned on the ground as people made the leisurely walk back to the front of the class to find their new seat.</p>
<p>Tim had checked it on the way in. He'd wanted to be here even earlier, in his seat first with his book out and pencils ready, but they'd left home late this morning. It wasn't enough to tank his enthusiasm, even if he wasn't as prepared as he wanted to be. He was in the second row from the back on the left, next to someone named Ezra C. Tim just hoped he was nice; his last work partner was Will Fredrick, a boy with glasses thicker than the notebook he always carried around, a knack for the arts and not a talkative bone in his body. He moved to a Catholic school in St Paul at the end of last year. Apparently his parents hadn't been happy with the environment of Chesterville High anymore.</p>
<p>As Tim flipped through his art book, eyes roving over his work from last year as he looked for a new page, he became aware of a short shadow attempting to loom over him to no avail.</p>
<p>"Hello, new desk mate." Tim looked up, spooked, finding himself staring at a curly-haired boy with a broad if lopsided smile and a black ring in his nose. "I'm Ezra Cartenelli. I hope you're Tim J from the seating plan, or I'm in the wrong place and making a complete fool of myself."</p>
<p>"I- I am." he attempted a smile of his wattage, but his lips couldn't stretch that far. Ezra laughed, sticking out his hand, and Tim shook it awkwardly.</p>
<p>"We were in the same photography class last year as well," Ezra said, still smiling. "I was a few seats away from you, but I don't think we ever spoke."</p>
<p>"Oh, um- we didn't." Tim wasn't sure of how long he was supposed to hold eye contact for so he swallowed, directing his attention to rooting through his bag for a pencil. Panic immediately gripped his insides when he realised he'd forgotten his pencil case. His brain supplied its whereabouts on cue; next to where he kept his backpack, in the bedroom. He'd gotten distracted by doing Trinity's hair.</p>
<p>"Can I help?" Ezra offered, holding up a worn blue pen with a blue cap. "Ignore the bite marks. My study buddy can't focus on jack shit without chewing on something. He's fidgety." he paused, his eyes widening. "Christ, I'm sorry. Are you okay with it if I swear, I'm trying not to do it as much-"</p>
<p>"Thank you for the pen," Tim said gratefully, taking it gently from between Ezra's fingers. "And- um, I'm not fussed. That's fine. Just... thanks. Thank you."</p>
<p>"No problem, desk mate," he said, relieved, pulling his book out and dumping it on the table. "What was the theme again?"</p>
<p>"Intertwined," Tim repeated as Ezra slipped his phone out of his pocket deftly, holding it under the desk and looking up at Miss Jasmine with his lip between his teeth. Tim took a chance on what could be a potential conversation. Was he allowed to keep talking while someone was on the phone? "It- it seems kinda odd, for a theme, don't you think?"</p>
<p>"Yeah," Ezra agreed, opening his text messages. "Have any ideas what you're gonna do?" Tim tried not to jolt too visibly at the fact Ezra was... well, replying.</p>
<p>"I'm not sure yet," he said softly, shaking off his surprise. "I'd- um, I'd like to do something good, though, because I really like photography. What about you?"</p>
<p>"I'll probably just ask Miss J if I can trade out the assignment for an article and get marks off that," Ezra said, opening a conversation with someone under the name of 'Dummy' accompanied by a poop emoji. "I've always thought it was easier to work on assignment than on, y'know, an actual assignment." Tim laughed, and Ezra shot him a smile.</p>
<p>"I like you," he beamed, and Tim smiled down at his knees. "I think we're gonna have a lot of fun together, desk mate."</p>
<p>"Uh- yeah. Me too. Desk mate."<br/><br/><br/></p>
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<p>"So because of what happened last year you're in a club," Adanna said incredulously, taking another bite from her sandwich. "But not a cool club." her words were muffled, crumbs falling out of her mouth, and Conner shrugged.</p>
<p>"It's fucking stupid-"</p>
<p>"I'm not finished processing," Adanna interrupting, swallowing and dusting off her hands. "You're in a club for other kids who've fucked up or are fucked up in some way, Mr He Who Shall Not Be Named God Forbid You Act Like A Pouty Baby is there too, you punched him in the face, and now you're in trouble." she paused, tapping her chin and feigning thoughtfulness. "Sounds awful fucking familiar, don't you think?"</p>
<p>"Shut up."</p>
<p>"Just don't go around putting him in hospital again," she snickered, and Conner hit her arm harshly. "Um, <em>ow</em>. Are all those hands of yours capable of punching and passing? How do you expect to get a girlfriend with that attitude?"</p>
<p>"Can we talk about something else?" he asked, and Adanna rolled her eyes.</p>
<p>"Sure. Did you do the English homework or were you too busy napping?"</p>
<p>"There was homework?" Conner blanched, and Adanna gave him <em>that</em> look.</p>
<p>"Yeah, dipshit. The worksheet you didn't do in class that already got you a detention," she said slowly, like it was obvious. "We had to finish the first five pages and read up to chapter six."</p>
<p>"In one night?"</p>
<p>"Yep. Most people can do that, dude." She patted his shoulder, and Conner desperately tried to recall what exactly he had done the previous afternoon. None of what he could think of was homework.</p>
<p>After Ezra hung up, Joseph had gotten home with his siblings. Ami took Cameron to hockey practise, Lisa went next door for piano lessons, and Matthew had a friend over. Conner went to his room, attempted his maths homework, gave up, had a nap. Went downstairs, spoke to his father, got angry at his father, went into the garage.</p>
<p>He'd ended up boxing - or rather punching without real rhyme or reason - until dinner, and then he took his food up to his bedroom and ignored his mom when she came around to ask about that detention. He pretended to be asleep and was instead forced to listen to his parents talk about him.</p>
<p>"I don't think he's... <em>coping</em> very well," Joseph had whispered, and Ami sighed. "I mean, he's always been distant, but this... it shook him. He lost his best friend. He was finally talking to me today, and as soon as I bought up Eli he left."</p>
<p>"He's had three months to adjust. I understand they were close, but... he has to get better at some point. He needs to be able to focus on his studies and committing to Alternate."</p>
<p>"He's barely spoken about what happened, and when he did he just gets angry until he closes up. The therapist said it would only be a month or two until he was okay again."</p>
<p>"Did he have any issues with Eli today at school?" They still called him by his nickname. It hurt.</p>
<p>"Do you really think he'd tell me if he did?" Joseph said, exasperated, and his shirt rustled as he folded his arms. "Maybe it isn't about Eli. Maybe it's about... Christmas. He mentioned it today and I didn't know what to say-"</p>
<p>"I'd rather not talk about it," Ami said testily. "The little ones might overhear." A pause. "Besides, he wasn't affected by it. We would've known if he was affected. He might not have told us, but we would've known." There was no uncertainty to her voice, and Conner felt his pulse throb in his temples.</p>
<p>"You've got to remember he's a <em>teenage boy</em>, Ami. He feels different to the way we do. He isn't a little kid anymore."</p>
<p>"Lets just let him sleep, Joe." she sighed. "Come on. We should put Lisa to bed."</p>
<p>After that, they left, and Conner stared at the wall and curled up into a tight ball until he felt like he could breathe again without screaming.</p>
<p>"Hey? You still there?" Adanna clicked his fingers in front of his face, and Conner scowled, batting her hand away. "Yep. There's my angry boy."</p>
<p>"Go fuck yourself," Conner muttered, and she perked up.</p>
<p>"Gladly. I'll call Georgia and see if she wants to join in."</p>
<p>"Just stop talking, okay?"</p>
<p>"Someone's moody today. Maybe therapy is good for you-"</p>
<p>"Fucking <em>stop</em>, okay?" Conner snapped, shooting up to his feet. Adanna looked surprised, dropping her sandwich on the ground and looking at it sullenly. "You're not funny. You're an asshole."</p>
<p>"Calm thy tit, Nakamura. I won't joke about it anymore if you're gonna keep getting pissed," she said, obviously disgruntled, and Conner sat back down heavily with a huff. He rested his head in his hands, breathing deeply, and he heard Adanna clear her throat.</p>
<p>"Dude, I know I'm an insensitive bitch sometimes, but, y'know, if you ever need to talk to anyone about anything I'm here. You know that, right?"</p>
<p>"What, you think I need double the therapy now?" he said drily, and Adanna sighed.</p>
<p>"You know that isn't what I meant, asshole."</p>
<p>"Fuck you." The bell rang, and Adanna stood up.</p>
<p>"C'mon. We've got English." she pulled her bag up onto her shoulder, cracking her neck. "I'll tell Roy I took your sheet to copy it and lost it. She'll believe me, because my answers look like they've been written by a five year old. Classic Conner Nakamura." he bristled at that, and she laughed as she extended her up. "Dude. Up and at 'em. Leggo." Conner took her hand, forcing a smile, and Adanna ruffled his hair affectionately. She was irritatingly taller than him.</p>
<p>"There's that happy Conner smile I wake up every morning for, said no one ever. Let's go!"<br/><br/><br/></p>
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<p>He was staring again.</p>
<p>Eli blinked furiously, staring down at his book and trying to focus on the equations neatly inked onto the stiff white paper. New text books were always a treat; there wasn't a single dick drawn on any page. Usually, that was something Eli would be able to joke about with his friends, but that implied he still had any.</p>
<p>The one thing he had left was a free block at the same time as Lilly Gregory.</p>
<p>The girl in question was laughing over something a friend had murmured, her catastrophic curls making a halo of bleeding gold that dripped down her neck and shoulders to tickle the soft skin under her shoulder blades. She was wearing her favourite jeans - the ones with the rips in the knee and the 'eat shit' patch sewn over the back pocket - and make up to cover up the freckles she hated. Her eyes were magnificent blue pools rimmed with rosy pink, her lips painted a dangerous red that drooped theatrically as she methodically tapped her peachy nails against the wooden table. Textbooks went unnoticed around her as Freya - her best friend - leaned in close to whisper another joke. Colton and Vashna ignored their giggles to focus on work, and Eli despised their ignorance. Lilly Gregory had a laugh ripped straight out of an angel, and she wore the blood under her fingernails proudly. She'd gladly tear through you to get what she wants, but Eli thought she was different. Lilly thought she was too; she clawed as deep as she could to try and find her heart, but Eli knew G held it captive. He'd locked her up too many years ago and thrown away the key.</p>
<p>Eli knew that. No one else did.</p>
<p>Eli and Lilly had started dating in earnest at the beginning of their Junior year, after dancing around each other late into their sophomore year. The beginning of their relationship had been more like a cycle than anything serious, of Eli telling Lilly too much and then some and Lilly responding in kind with everything deep and dark, spurred on and words spilling due to the uncertainty of it all. It was something they shared in the night time, Eli beside her wondering why he was still in her bed yet kissing her neck because he knew she liked it. He remembered kissing her and holding hands under her table at Chuck-E-Cheese on a date they'd both firmly confirmed not to be a date, because they weren't <em>dating</em>, after all. Then suddenly they were and Eli liked Lilly far more than he thought Lilly liked him. </p>
<p>Despite how much he loved her, Eli had been... tense, the entire time. Like he was just waiting to fuck up and ruin it. Technically, <em>Lilly </em>fucked up first; it just so happened that Eli's fuck up was much, <em>much</em> more spectacular.</p>
<p>"Lilly." The girl looked up at the sound of her name, turning to Vashna with an easy smile. Vashna tilted her head in Eli's direction, making a face, and Eli stiffened as their eyes met. He sunk into himself, shoulders hunched as he stared down at his textbook and scribbled furiously. He could still see Lilly purse her lips as she stood abruptly, slamming her books closed and ordering her friends to follow. Footsteps approached, and half of him prayed it was Lilly while the other half dreaded it.</p>
<p>"Hey. Eli." he looked up hesitantly, Freya's intimidating black eyes burning through his skull as Colton folded his arms over his chest. "Look, man, I don't want to have to tell you again-"</p>
<p>"Stop following her," Colton spat harshly, and Freya looked sympathetic as Eli flinched. "Stop messaging her, stop looking at her, just <em>stop</em>."</p>
<p>Freya had been Lilly's best friend since middle school, a sweet girl with a Pennsylvanian accent and Polynesian blood. She and Eli had been friends when they ran in the same circles, whereas with Colton it was the exact opposite. The fiery red head was tall and sour and had always disliked Eli, but never had the guts to say it to his face until the incident. He believed Eli wasn't good enough for Lilly; Freya believed Lilly wasn't good enough for Eli.</p>
<p>"Colton, c'mon," she sighed. "You don't have to be so hard on him."</p>
<p>"Won't happen again," Eli said, and he hoped he didn't sound as weak as he felt. "I forgot we had frees at the same time. Thought the timetable might change."</p>
<p>"Maybe spend them elsewhere." Colton's words twisted as he leaned forward, planting his hands on the desk and getting uncomfortably close. "I hear the back of the gym is a great place to waste your time."</p>
<p>"Colton." Freya's voice was hushed, shocked, and Eli stared up at the red headed boy in front of him and yearned desperately to deck him right then and there.</p>
<p>"You'd know something about wasting time, wouldn't you? You <em>have</em> spent five years pining after Lil." the snake curled around his throat as Colton's eyes widened, face reddening in a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Sorry, I guess. Must be hard."</p>
<p>"You're a piece of shit," Colton hissed, and he brushed off Freya's hand when she tried to pull him back. Spit landed on Eli's cheek and he didn't allow the boy the satisfaction of his disgust. "I wish you fucking died when you overdosed and so does Lilly." Eli wished he didn't feel so numb now to people saying they wished he was dead.</p>
<p>"Colton, for Christ's sake," Freya snapped. "Lay off."</p>
<p>"It's okay, Frey," Eli said levelly. "I get that he's a little grumpy. His hand is probably a really shitty imitation of what he--"</p>
<p>"You fucking-" Colton launched forward, the front of Eli's shirt in his grip as he jerked him up over the table, fist pulled back. Freya grabbed his arm, slapping it down and pressing a tanned hand against his chest to push him back. Eli fell back in his seat as the snake whispered all the ways he could end this situation, and Colton was breathing heavily and Freya was murmuring apologies as she led him off.</p>
<p>"Just- just give it time," Freya called from between the bookcases. "Until then, you know what to do."</p>
<p>"Sure do," Eli whispered, and the sudden silence was enough to make him feel ready to forget the new rules all over again and race after her and beg for her back.</p>
<p>But he wouldn't. Colton wasn't the only one who wanted him dead.<br/><br/><br/></p>
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<p>"Oi, Andy Pandy. What's the deal with the watchlist thing tomorrow?" Adelaide asked from where she was sprawled out over Andrea's beanbags. She was out of class and supposed to be reading The Crucible, but she really couldn't be fucked. So what if the truancy slip said she was in assisted learning? Her assisted learning came in the form of schooling all the uglies on Tumblr. There was no specification on who had to be doing the teaching.</p>
<p>"Private consultations are tomorrow," Andrea said, looking up from her laptop briefly. "After school in my office. They're mandatory, just in case you forgot that too."</p>
<p>"I'll just cancel <em>all</em> my plans," she said, rolling her eyes as she typed up a response to some asshole.</p>
<p>"Like you have anything better to do."</p>
<p>"I'm gonna report you for that abusive comment," Adelaide said, sitting up and sinking into a new groove. "Kiss your job goodbye."</p>
<p>"Whatever will I do without your happy presence in my life?" she said drily, and Adelaide flipped her off. "Come on, Adelaide. I want you to read at least one chapter. Don't make me actually enforce school policy on you."</p>
<p>"You wouldn't dare," she said bluntly, and Andrea risked a laugh. They fell into a comfortable silence, Andrea marking student evaluations at her desk as Adelaide ignored the unopened book sitting into the bag beside her as she scrolled through her feed.</p>
<p>"So," Andrea started, not looking up from her work, "how's it going at home?"</p>
<p>"Hector burnt the pasta and passed out on the couch after trying to make me play The Game of Life with him, so I ordered pizza after I did the washing. Smoked for a bit. That's pretty much everyday I'm at home."</p>
<p>"Still not calling him dad?"</p>
<p>"He'll get the title when he gets the part."</p>
<p>"Fair enough." Andrea finally looked up, eyeing her with her counsellor look. It made Adelaide feel uncomfortable in a way she was used to. "Still maintaining your calendar?"</p>
<p>"It's almost been a year." She tried to keep the pride out of her voice, but Andrea caught it and chuckled. "I haven't felt particularly suicidal in ten months, so I think I'm doing pretty alright."</p>
<p>"Good, good. You've improved heaps, and I'm proud of you," Andrea smiled, and Adelaide felt her heart flutter. She quashed it immediately.</p>
<p>Andrea wasn't her mom. Andrea wouldn't replace her mom. She was just being childish.</p>
<p>She tucked her chin into her chest, staring down at her phone and filling her thoughts with the idea of stapling her mouth shut.</p>
<p>"How much are you smoking?"</p>
<p>"Not much. Petey charges too much and I just don't have the cash. Unless you're offering-"</p>
<p>"<em>Adelaide</em>."</p>
<p>"Right. Teacher code. Gotcha."</p>
<p>Andrea laughed regardless, rolling her eyes as she shuffled her papers and picked up her pen again. "Do your work, Addie."</p>
<p>"Only if you let me watch the movie adaption."</p>
<p>"Don't test me, kid."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you enjoyed! I have actually had art commissioned of the Poster Children by twt @/bbuggs_ which you can see <a href="https://twitter.com/kingashdotcom/status/1299296055075381250?s=20">here!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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